


Ven and the Summer Blight

by Erzahler_Haven



Series: Ven, Spirit of Nisik [2]
Category: Ori and the Blind Forest, Ori and the Will of the Wisps
Genre: Gen, Spoilers for Ori and the Will of the Wisps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-20 11:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 78,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30004431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erzahler_Haven/pseuds/Erzahler_Haven
Summary: In a new season brimming with life, the young spirit Ven yearns to find his place in the land and forest of Nisik.
Series: Ven, Spirit of Nisik [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2207154
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Like "Ven and the Spirit Pine", I originally had this in a Google Doc and shared it with the main Ori discord, and am now putting it up here.

In winter, the land and forest of Nisik was still, frozen and dark. It was a harsh, barren place in such a time, when much of its life would either migrate to milder regions, or sleep. Those who remained would often say that with the snow its thick blanket, and the stars and aurorae its roof, the land, too, rested.

But Nisik was a far different scene in the summer. A gentle, almost warm breeze blew through the valley. The sun had just set behind the mountains, but only for a time. In but hours, it would rise again from further down the mountains. Dusk and dawn were close friends then, for the sky would only briefly, if at all, get completely dark before the light heralded a new day. The warmer days, coupled with an abundance of daylight, had made the snow flee from all but the tallest peaks.

In this season, Nisik was a vibrant green, brimming with life. Birds of numerous kinds and sizes soared in its skies or nested in its trees. The guh’nuu herd--cloven-hoofed, antlered beasts--had returned, grazing on the plethora of grass, shrubs, and ferns. Pine, spruce, aspen, birch and other trees, with their branches bursting with leaves and needles, spread all across the landscape, reaching even into the mountains. In some areas, the trees were separate from one another, each species congregating only with its own. In the region known as the Innusik Wood, however, the trees mingled with one another, weaving their branches together to create a great canopy that overshadowed the forest floor.

In the heart of the Innusik Wood, those trees gave way to a large clearing, where stood a tree greater than all the trees of Nisik. Towering above the Innusik Wood, the Spirit Pine was a living manifestation of the Light, giving life and vigor to all living things beneath its warm, bluish-white glow. Cradled among the branches at its center, swirled its light vessel, a brilliant sphere of white and ocean-blue.

The Spirit Pine did not sustain Nisik alone, however. From luminous cones hanging from its branches, seeds would fall with the advent of summer, from which upon landing, his children, the Spirits, would be born. Guided by the Spirit Pine, the Spirits would use the Light to protect the Spirit Pine and Nisik from the darkness that threatened them.

A darkness--”blight”, it was often called--that one way or another always came as Nisik thawed in the spring. Decaying. Corrupting. Destroying. And so, the work of the spirits of Nisik was to stop the blight before it could take hold, or cleanse wherever it did find root. It was a labor that spanned the majority of each spring and summer, sometimes even into the beginning of fall. With effort, persistence and yes, even at a cost, great or small, the safety of Nisik and its life was always assured.

Then, as the land chilled and froze, a reprieve. It was unknown as to why this was, but the creatures of Nisik believed that the winter cold was too bitter for even the blight to intrude. Or, perhaps, it was the Spirit Pine--like a lone, radiant sentinel keeping vigil--that kept the blight at bay during the long, sunless winters. And while the Spirit Pine kept watch, his children, like several creatures of Nisik, also slept.

Now, with the turn of the seasons, the spirits had awakened, and once again were preparing to meet and defeat their eternal foe.

But, some distance south and east of the Spirit Pine, in a small clearing beneath a fallen tree, one spirit had inadvertently “slept in”.


	2. A New Season, and a New Face

On the forest floor, the plants, shrubs and ferns had created a miniature canopy of their own. Beneath the fallen tree, the leaves rustled as a small mound seemed to grow out of the earth. The mound soon broke open, from which emerged the head of this spirit.

Drowsy and almost oblivious to the pile of dirt and leaves still resting on his head, the spirit Ven squinted his bleary, sapphire blue eyes and stared off as he smacked his lips. He then gave vent to a huge yawn, causing the leaves and grit to run down the back of his neck. Reflexively, he shook his head rapidly, revealing his two pairs of pointy ears that were previously covered or weighed down. One pair was large and on the sides of his head, growing out and upward. The other pair was much smaller and upon the top of his head, also growing nearly straight up.

Clearing the last of the grit from his head with a gentle sneeze, with effort he pulled one arm up from out of his burrow, then the other, using them to gradually pull himself out.

The spirit had grown in his sleep, having become slightly taller, and grown more of his pale blue, wispy fur. As light a blue as his fur was, it paled further on his face, chest and extremities such as his legs, hands and the tips of his ears. The paleness was emphasized by the steady glow that emanated from him, a trait common to all spirits of Nisik. 

He sat up and gave a soft, pained whine, before the light of dusk overwhelming his eyes prompted another sneeze. He ached all over, and felt woozy. His mind still swimming, the only thing that seemed to register to him as he shut his eyes was the abundance of sound. Leaves and branches swayed with the wind, almost as if whispering something. Birds tweeted and trilled all around. Then, another sound asserted itself over everything else: a seemingly loud rumble, originating from his belly.

Food. The need for it now consumed his every thought. He opened his eyes, lolling his head one way, then the other as he searched for something, anything that might be edible. Then, looking above him, he reached and poked a hole in the lesser canopy as he plucked a large, green leaf. He sniffed it briefly, then nibbled, then shoved the whole thing in his mouth, chewing voraciously.

As he chewed, the spirit stood slowly and cautiously, emerging above the ferns and leaves. Stuffing another green leaf in his mouth, he looked around him, thoughts of hunger giving way to wonder. It was as if he had awakened in a completely different place. Once, in a time that felt both so long ago and as if it was yesterday at the same time, he had seen this land in this season, but in his mind’s eye. Now, it seemed so more vivid now that he saw it with his own natural eyes. Instead of being barren and frozen, the land was lush and..full. 

Becoming more aware as strength slowly returned as he ate, Ven then grew nervous. He had reason to believe it was summer, but was it actually the following summer? For all he knew, it could have been longer. Had his efforts of that bygone winter truly succeeded? And where was his dear friend, Tuktua? 

As he thought on this, he spied an answer, of a sort. To the northwest, amid the swaying leaves and branches, a distant, bluish light was shining through, visible even in the light that remained with dusk.

Ven knew instantly what it was: the Spirit Pine. He knew the tree would have the answers he sought, and so he began making his way in that direction.

The spirit’s stomach still grumbled as he wove through the ferns and leaves. The occasional leaf he picked would help, but he would have to eat much, much more of them to be satisfied. A quick glance at himself, from his hands to his hooves, revealed that he had grown a little, but in his long sleep, he had become thin, even lanky. He knew that wasn’t normal, or he wouldn’t still be feeling woozy even now. He needed something more substantial. 

As he brushed more leaves aside to clear his path, he felt his hand touch something that didn’t feel like a leaf, and paused. Beneath the leaves, hanging heavy from stalks, was something small and of a deep pink, almost purple color that he’d never seen before. It was not spherical in shape, but rather looked like some strangle clump of tiny spheres. He gripped one between his fingers to pull it free, but in doing so, accidentally squeezed it a little too tightly. 

The thing partly burst, and the spirit squeaked as it squirt juice into his face. But, to his surprise, the juice did not sting to the touch, as he might have expected from something of this color. He licked his lips, and puckered. It was tangy and sweet. His face lit up, and he sniffed the curious object with great interest. It too smelled sweet and tangy.

And then it dawned on him: for the first time in his life, he had tasted fruit. His friend Tuktua had once spoken of it to him, mostly in passing. He quickly nibbled it, and then stuffed it in his mouth so quickly that he nearly bit his own fingers in the process.

He made a face, his eyes watering and his mouth feeling like it would implode with the burst of tang and sweetness he tasted as he chewed. He had never had something so delicious in all his life. The sensation overwhelmed all other thoughts in his mind. There had to be more of these, and he had to have them right now. And so, squealing with an odd combination of franticness and joy, he tore among the leaves around him, searching for more. It didn’t take long; soon the spirit was literally stuffing his face with the savory fruit wherever he found it.

Some time had passed before the spirit finally slowed down. By then, his jaw was tired, his mouth still full of fruit, and his face and hands were stained and sticky with juice, and he felt...odd. His mind was racing, but he still felt woozy. He felt like he could leap to the top of a tree, but he felt heavy, his belly having become swollen from his feast. He sat down for a breather, swallowing the last mouthful of fruit. His stomach groaned again, but this time, it was out of pain, and his dizziness grew. Perhaps he had eaten too much, or too fast, or both.

He then felt a strange sensation, of something welling up from his stomach and in his throat, but without heaving. And then it happened.

“Uurrrrp!”

Overcome by dizziness after his belch, Ven heard himself sigh and felt himself falling over as everything went dark.

***

The sound of a breeze, and the chirping of birds tugged at Ven’s consciousness. Then, he heard a voice, a young voice.

“Ooh, a spirit!”

Then, he heard the gentle pitter-patter of footsteps of something drawing near. “Wha’s it doing, sleepin’ out here in th’ open?” It then giggled. “Too m’ny berries, tee-hee!” 

The spirit didn’t feel woozy anymore, nor did he ache in his stomach. A pain in his head, however, had taken its place, and his throat felt dry. He whined as he slowly opened his eyes. It was brighter in the sky than before. It was daytime now?

He didn’t dwell on that long, for a seemingly large, brown, blurry shape suddenly was right in his face. “Hello, spirit!” exclaimed the voice from before, the only thing clearly visible with this greeting being two pairs of long, menacing-looking upper and lower incisors.

Squealing in fright, Ven jolted awake and scrambled away. “Eeek!” squeaked the voice with matching fright, and the shape darted away, disappearing into a nearby bush. 

Shaking his head and rubbing his eyes, the spirit stumbled upright and faced the bush, bracing for a fight.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then the bush rustled slightly, but what emerged wasn’t what Ven expected at all. First, standing straight up, a pair of brown and white ears with black tips poked up from the bush, followed by the head of the creature. It had golden brown eyes that were more on the sides than the front of their head, presumably providing them some field of vision for behind them. It had a small mouth and a small nose that looked almost triangular in shape, pointing down. Several whiskers twitched on both sides of its muzzle, the creature’s nose sometimes also twitching along with them. The teeth that looked so large before were now barely visible, even though the creature was already chewing on a branch from the bush they had hidden in. After it swallowed its snack, it spoke again. “Y’scared me there, spirit!”

Ven tensed. It wasn’t what he expected, but he still didn’t feel like he could let his guard down. He stepped back a little more as the creature then hopped out of the bush. It was shorter and smaller than he was, though not by much. The spirit tilted his head, looking at them strangely, as he’d never seen this creature before. Leporine in appearance, it was fluffy, having a coat of subdued brown fur with white on its chest and underside. It partly stood on its hind feet, which were both furry and enormous. It had front paws with fingers also, but they seemed tiny compared to the hind feet. Finally, the creature had some sort of vine or strap going down from one of its shoulders and across their chest, like it was carrying something.

It didn’t look threatening at all. On the contrary, it actually looked kind of cute. 

It tilted its head back at him, returning the strange look as their ears fell flat atop their head amid the awkward silence. “What’re y’lookin at me like that for? I’m an outha, not a kazhna or tekaen.”

A what? Ven’s puzzled look remained.

The creature, young as they were, looked incredulous as the spirit still did not understand. “Outha,” they said, then repeating the word, but elongated. “Oooooooouu-tha.”

Ven scrunched his lips and then stuck his tongue out from between his teeth as he tried to mimic the word. “..O..ooooo...thhh..”

The outha gaped with skepticism. “Y’can’t even talk? Y’don’t look like a baby spirit.”

No longer feeling threatened, Ven relaxed, and then tried the only word he knew how to speak clearly: a name. “Tuktua.”

The outha seemed to recognize the name, but still looked perplexed. “Yeah, Tuktua. She’s like a second mama to us, but I haven’t seen you before, how would you know her?” She advanced on him, looking up and staring at him with suspicion. “Ya got a name, spirit?”

Despite the outha’s smaller stature, Ven felt a little intimidated by their demeanor, though not threatened. Growing nervous, he tried to answer them, his face scrunching again and some teeth showing as he tried to form the sound. “Fffff..fffvvv..”

The outha couldn’t keep the serious act going. They covered their nose and mouth with a paw, stifling laughter. “Y’ll have to work on that,” they said, breaking into a grin. They then stepped back and offered a paw. “M’name’s Peony.”

More awkward silence followed as Ven stared blankly at Peony, not familiar with the gesture of greeting. This soon became apparent to Peony. “Y’re supposed to..*sigh* never mind.” The outha’s arm fell, and they made a face as if to mimic the one Ven made with his most recent attempt at speech. “‘Nyway, nice t’meet ya, Mister ‘Fffffvvv’..”

Peony then trailed off. The outha’s eyes went wide, and their mouth hung open in shock, having seemed to have suddenly realized something. “..Oh!” The young outha began hopping in place, wringing their paws as their feet thumped the ground rapidly with a surge of excitement. She repeated the spirit’s attempt at his name, staring hopefully at him. “Fffvvvv...you wouldn’t happen to be ‘Ven’?”

Ven blinked in astonishment. Why did this outha he’d never met know his name? Still, he bobbed his head and yapped affirmatively.

Peony then made a rather odd sound, a sort of squeak or squeal of joy as they covered their nose and mouth with both paws. “Eeeeee..” The young one’s face seemed frozen in a grin, and they teetered back and forth as their feet practically did a drumroll on the ground. It was as though they were fixing to explode with excitement...or perhaps pass out from it. The outha then suddenly grabbed one of Ven’s hands in both their paws and shook it nearly as rapidly as the drumroll of their feet, their sentences blending together as they spoke.

“The other jills’ll be so jealous ‘so good to finally meet you th’ spirits’ll be so glad y’re here an’ Tuktua too an’ y’ll tell ‘sall ‘bout yerself well once y’learn t’talk we’ll have t’start there firs’ an’..”

Peony’s lightning-fast ramble went on, but not a word of it registered to Ven. She spoke far too fast. Plus, his whole frame was shaking with her “greeting gesture”. He finally managed to wrench his hand away, staggering backwards and whining amid his daze. Peony stopped at this, going from being overly excited to awfully embarrassed. “Oh, er, um...s’ry. Outha don’t talk all that much, but when we do, we do a lot.” The outha’s face colored a little as they added, “Us jills ‘specially.”

Ven frowned, not because he was upset, but because the outha’s words still made little sense to him.

“I’m a jill,” said Peony, pointing at herself, seeing if he’d understand. “Jill?” she repeated, looking at him intently. She then tried similar terms. “Girl? ...Female?” 

Nothing. Or, at least, the still-confused look on Ven’s face seemed to suggest he was still lost. Peony grumbled and sighed. She then grasped the strap going across her chest and heaved, bringing around and setting down in front of her an object that Ven eyed curiously. It was a bag of some sort that appeared to have all been made from weaving long leaves or some sort of cordage together. As she dug into the bag, Peony muttered under her breath, “Don’t yer tree tell y’anythin’ about that stuff?”

She then looked up at him. “Are y’thirsty? Water?”

Finally, a word Ven recognized. He yapped, bobbing his head again. From the bag, Peony produced a large acorn that was about as big as her head.

Ven blinked at her. That didn’t look anything like water.

The outha jill chuckled, smiling. She then gave the acorn a gentle shake. Liquid could be heard sloshing inside. She then offered it to the spirit.

The spirit boggled at the acorn, nodding in thanks to her as he accepted, hefted and then studied it with childlike curiosity as he searched for a way to get to its precious contents.

Peony watched him with amusement. Unknown to the spirit, she had heard tales from her kind and from Tuktua about him since as long as she could remember. The tales spoke of daring, bravery, and strong will in facing the dark. Of doing for the Spirit Pine what no one else could then. Of saving the land and forest of Nisik. 

And yet, she would not have suspected any such thing of this naive child before her. Yet, that was all right. She believed he was who he said he was. He was a child, just like her. But to her, that meant he was approachable. Maybe even, she thought, they could be friends? 

She tapped the acorn’s cupule on top with a finger. “It’s got a lid, silly,” she said. Ven blinked, then whined in surprise as he seemed to understand, and then worked to pry it off. It came off quickly, spilling some of the precious liquid in the process. Dropping the cupule, the spirit held up the acorn in both hands and drank quickly. So quickly, in fact, that the water ran down his cheeks and chest as he quickly drained it, then nearly dropping the acorn as he suddenly choked on the last of the water, going into a fit of coughs.

Peony shook her head in an effort to get off the water droplets that had either spilled or spluttered onto her. Hiding her mild annoyance at the mess and the spirit having drunk all the water, she coolly heaved a sigh and brushed her ears back with both paws. “Yup, y’were thirsty all right.” She picked up the cupule and took the hollowed-out acorn off the spirit’s hands. “Could’ve saved some,” she said, giving him a bit of a steely eye, though only briefly. “There’s a stream not far from ‘ere,” she explained as she put the acorn back together and stowed it in her bag, and then slung it over her shoulder. “Y’can drink as much as y’like there, and, eh..” She looked at his face and his hands. “Maybe clean off that sticky juice, too. Won’t wanna look like that when y’meet yer kin, huh?”

Ven frowned, feeling abashed at his appearance and giving a subdued, ashamed whine. He felt a little guilty for drinking all the water, though he couldn’t help but mentally agree with Peony. He could use more water and some cleaning up, and her generosity had earned her his trust.

Making sure her bag was secure on her back, she then beckoned the spirit to follow her as she lowered to rest on all fours. “F’low me.” She then grinned at him mischievously. “Think y’can keep up, spirit?”

The spirit did not understand her challenge, and before he could try to get her to explain, she took off, disappearing into the brush. He yipped in dismay, giving chase in turn.

Running felt like a completely different affair in this season. In the winter, the ground was flat, frozen and mostly unobstructed. Now, with all manner of grass, bushes and leaves growing all over, it wasn’t difficult to lose one’s sense of direction, or trip on some exposed root hidden by the grass. Fortunately, Ven could keep up, so Peony never got that far ahead of him. Though, for a time, it did appear to her as if she had widened the gap.

She skidded to a stop in a break in the foliage, huffing and puffing a little as she looked behind her. She heard nothing, much less anyone following her. At first, she snickered at the idea of having lost the spirit, but then thought that might actually be a bad thing. “Ven?” she called out, listening for an answer.

She then gaped at what she saw. Ven had leapt high into the air some distance behind her and, as if he were throwing something, swung his arm forward. At this, light whipped into being and wrapped itself around an overhanging branch ahead of him. And with a gleeful whoop, he swung over her head, letting go and sailing through the air ahead of her, landing neatly before continuing his run in the direction she’d been going.

She almost had to duck as he swung over and past her. Indignant, she stood up on her hind feet, shaking a fist after him as he went. “”Ey! No fair! Tha’s cheatin’!!” she exclaimed, bounding after him and determined to catch up.

Now Ven had the lead on Peony. He saw a break in the trees ahead, and thought to himself that the stream must be just ahead. He looked behind him, giggling at her protest, now confident that he not only could keep up, but that he’d won the race.

But the spirit had taken his eyes off the path at the wrong time. He squeaked in alarm as the sensation of ground left his hooves. He had found the stream, but in a part preceded by a short but sudden dropoff. With a squeal, followed by a smack, the spirit belly-flopped into the water.

Peony arrived a moment later, but Ven was nowhere to be seen. Confused, she walked along the edge of the dropoff, looking around. “Ven? Hey where’d ya go, spirit?”

The spirit suddenly burst above the surface of the stream, spewing water, coughing and shivering. The stream was as cold as he remembered it being, only in this season, despite his having grown a little, it now was up to his neck. Fortunately, the current was not strong enough to carry him off. He was completely drenched, his ears sopping wet and sagging from the added weight.

Peony put a paw to her mouth, stifling a laugh. “You win?” she said with a shrug and a grin.

Ven narrowed his eyes at her, giving her a glare that clearly said “That’s not funny”. 

She giggled anyway, plucking a nearby long blade of grass and putting it in her mouth before again bringing her bag in front of her and digging into it. This time, she drew forth a small bundle of cordage that was braided together like a rope, tossing one end of it down for him to grab onto.

Ven looked at the cordage blankly, and for a moment forgot that he was wet and cold as he marveled. Peony seemed like quite the clever and resourceful creature, despite being young like him. Wading to the edge and grabbing hold, with Peony holding the other end, he was able to climb up onto the overlooking bank.

“Whew!” puffed Peony, and she sat down as Ven made it back up, then shielding her face as the spirit took a moment to shake the stream water off himself. “Well I guess that cleaned ya up, didn’ it?” she spoke around the blade of grass in her mouth.

The juice had indeed come off of Ven’s hands and face. He nodded in reply. Then, noticing the blade of grass in the outha’s mouth, he plucked one of his own from the ground, nibbled it, and then chewed on it like she did. They both then laughed.

Ven then sat down to catch his breath after their little race (and having the wind knocked out of him from landing in the stream the way he did). As he did so, he looked up. He squinted a little as he stared at the deep blue sky, taking a moment to peer at the light that hovered high above him. He had actually never seen it before now. Its brightness rivaled that of the light vessel of the Spirit Pine, yet its light was even more far-reaching, and it had a warmth to it that was more easily felt on his fur. It felt good, especially after being all cold and wet.

His eyes then fell upon the area in front of him. The stream ran through a large, open clearing. The ground on the opposite side of the streambank was actually a bit difficult to discern, for the majority of it was covered in tall, rich green grass.

He wondered to himself for a moment. The place seemed familiar. The more he thought on it, the more sure he became: this meadow was the place where he, as a seed, had drifted far from the Spirit Pine and landed on a chilly, rainy autumn night. Where he had been born.

He closed his eyes, reflecting on the rush of sensation he felt that night. That feeling echoed to him now. He could feel the faint breeze, which now soothed instead of chilled. Instead of the smell of wet earth, he smelled the grass. And instead of it being cold, he felt warmth. It was all a far different scene, but a welcome one. And with it, he once again felt a reverence for the land, a land that he both knew and felt he was a part of. 

Peony had watched the spirit during his quiet daydream, and then ventured to break the silence. “It r’lly is you, huh?”

Ven blinked, ears perking slightly as he returned to himself and tilted his head at her, not knowing what she meant.

“I mean..when I asked if y’were Ven, and you told me y’were, I believ’d ya,” she explained, then nodding. “But once I saw you cheatin’--I mean..swingin’ on light through the trees, then I knew. Tuktua would tell us that was how y’summoned the Light.”

“Tuktua,” said Ven a little urgently as he remembered. With renewed eagerness to find his guh’nuu friend, he stood up quickly. Looking at the young outha, he tried to speak the word. “..W...wh..”

Peony could guess what he meant to ask. “Where’s she? Uhm..” She thought for a moment as she packed the cordage into her bag and slung it over her shoulder. “She’s pr’bly teachin’ some baby spirits righ’ now. Not sure wher’...oh!”

Her large, fur-covered feet thumped the ground excitedly again, though not at the same rate as before. “Th’ Spirit Pine would know, an’ y’should come see him anyway, right?”

The Spirit Pine. Peony’s mention of that name did impress upon the spirit’s mind, and a longing to visit the Tree stirred within him again. He nodded, yapping affirmatively like before.

“‘E’s this way,” responded Peony, pointing mostly upstream. “We c’n follow the stream for a little while, get some more water on the way; then we’ll break away where it bends t’ward Kinu Lake, and just f’low th’ light through th’ Innusik Wood.” Beaming with a smile, she concluded, “Sound like a plan, Ven?”

The spirit smiled back, yapping again and nodding.

“Great,” replied the jill. She lowered to all fours again, wiggling her short fluffy tail as she prepared to go. “Oh, er..” She looked at him, and then up, briefly standing again as she scanned the sky, by now having halfway eaten the blade of grass still in her mouth. “Y’wouldn’ mind keepin’ an eye out for anythin’ flyin’ above? Always c’d use s’more eyes on th’ skies..”

Ven gave her a puzzled look, but nodded. She smiled at him before dropping to all fours again, and bounded away, though at a more leisurely pace that was easy to follow.

And as expected, as they journeyed--with the occasional heavenward glance--the land dipped such that eventually they were level with the stream, making it easy for them both to drink straight from it. Peony also used such an opportunity to refill the acorn she carried in her bag. 

For Ven, the water was cold, refreshing, renewing, and quicker to drink than having to eat snow like he had to during the winter. The pair stopped more than once to drink, the last of which being when they reached the stream’s bend that Peony spoke of. Likely because of the spirit’s halting speech, there was little conversation between the spirit and the outha as they journeyed upstream. Though, Ven had noticed from the corner of his eye that as he drank, Peony would either stare intently at him, or steal glances as she too drank from the stream, or groomed herself while she waited for him. He wondered why she had such great interest in what he was doing, or why she wanted him to watch the skies as they went. Alas, he did not yet really have the means to ask her.

Perhaps, one day, he would have the means. For now, things of greater moment were on the spirit’s mind. Looking ahead in the general direction Peony had pointed previously, he gazed into the great host of trees that was the Innusik Wood. The forest was thick enough that, normally, it would be dim inside, even in daytime. However, this was not so here, for even at this distance, the forest was also illuminated by another light. Another light that the spirit, like in that bygone winter, once again felt drawn to.

“This way,” said Peony in almost a whisper as she again beckoned with a paw before hopping into the trees. And so Ven followed her, toward that light.

Toward the Spirit Pine.


	3. Old Friends, and the Deal

Ven followed Peony at a rather casual pace, at most a light jog that he could maintain with ease. Standing up straight, he stood above the forest floor’s foliage at about shoulder height. The outha jill, on the other hand, was beneath it completely, since she traveled on all fours. Fortunately, he could follow the rustle of the grass and ferns just fine. Like before, the two traveled in relative silence for some time, sometimes pausing to eat any wild berries or tender leaves they encountered along the way, though not with the same frenzy that Ven had packed them in before.

The spirit was eager to see the Spirit Pine, and Tuktua too, but the slower pace and the lack of conversation allowed him to look around him more than he had previously, and to really take in his surroundings. The serene breeze. The whisper of the wind on the branches and leaves. The chirp of birds. The abundance of green. The abundance of life he could both sense and feel. It was all like an ensemble, weaving their parts together to form a tranquil song, a “music” that filled him with a peace and calm that he had felt only one other time, when he first communed with the Spirit Pine. This was the first time he could recall traveling through the Innusik Wood where there wasn’t, at the very least, some tension or urgency to the journey. Calm was hard to come by then, but he cherished it whenever it did come. Now, it seemed to pervade all around.

Yes. It felt good to him to feel that peace again. Without question, that alone was something worth protecting, worth promising for.

“‘Ey! Y’still there, daydreamer?”

Ven shook slightly, startled by the shout and blinking several times as his mind returned to the present. Peony was ahead of him near the crest of a small hill, standing on her hind feet with her front paws on her hips. Her nose, whiskers and even her ears were all atwitch, with a look on her face and a tone to her voice that suggested she was confused and perhaps a little annoyed, though more the former. “Ther’s plen’y of day, but I don’t got all of it, y’know?”

Ven did not understand the jill’s verbal expression, but he could sense the impatience in her tone and see it on her face. Ears drooping a little, he whined apologetically as he jogged to catch up to Peony.

“‘S okay,” she said with a shrug. “‘S my first summer too, tho’ I guess ‘ve got used to it.” She stole a glance to the canopy above them. “I ‘jus get nervous when we’re movin’ too slow or sittin’ still. Outha gotta watch out just about ‘nywhere they go. There’re a lot ‘f us, but lots like ta eat us, too. So we gotta be swift, smart, an’ sneaky--” She pointed at her naturally brown coat of fur, and then the dirt beneath them, which was a very similar color. “--t’ survive. Spirits like you ‘re one ‘f the few who don’ eat us.”

Ven nodded at her. At least to some extent, he understood what she meant beyond just her words. He knew what it felt like to be hunted, but the way Peony said it made it sound as if, for her and her kind, that was always something to fear, no matter the season, blight or no. He gave another whine, feeling sorry for her, even reaching to try to place a comforting hand. Before he could, she turned again to continue on, shrugging off the sobering topic. “It is a pretty place, tho’. ..C’mon. I think we’re almost ther’.”

The pair crested the hill. “Aha!” exclaimed Peony triumphantly, standing on her hind feet and pointing ahead of them. There, the trees had begun to thin, and the once-distant, bluish-white light now pierced through the branches in brilliant shafts. “Jus’ ahead. Th’ Spirit Pine!” 

Ven said nothing as he stopped, peering ahead. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, but the light seemed to grow brighter, and yet, he did nothing to avert or shield his eyes, even as one of the shafts of light seemed as though it shone on him.

Captivated, the spirit’s smaller pair of ears began to twitch and he felt his fur all stand on end.

_Ven, my child…_

He knew that deep, still voice that came into his mind. He then began to breathe heavily, as though he’d come off a sprint.

Peony looked thoughtful. “”S one of the few places where I feel safe..’Ey!”

Without warning, the spirit took off down the hill, running toward the light as fast as he could.

The outha bounded after him. “‘Ey wait f’ me!!”

***

Ven did come to a stop just as he broke into the clearing, and his gaze immediately went upward. Barely able to see the top, the branches of the Spirit Pine were no longer laden with snow. And had it sustained any damage from the Blight, he could not tell anymore. Its branches looked as full as ever with its dark green needles and glimmering cones. The light that radiated from it and its light vessel was just as bright as he remembered it, if not more so, even in the daylight. The happiness this brought him made him smile widely.

Then, his gaze lowered in front of him, and his eyes widened, and he gaped slightly. Beneath the branches of the Spirit Pine, dozens of other luminous beings were gathered together. They all had hooves like he did, and while they all looked similar to him, they also had their own unique features. Some were darker or lighter than he in their shades of blue. The ears of some were shorter than his, others longer, or perhaps were rounded instead of pointed. Some were shorter, others taller, and some looked older, while others looked like they were among those newly born.

There was no mistaking it. They were spirits. His kin, as Tuktua called them.

Before he could do something to get their attention, Peony wordlessly darted ahead of him, remaining on all fours as she ventured beneath the Tree’s branches, appearing to be searching for something. 

Distracted, Ven watched her with bemusement. He had not noticed previously that, strewn about under the Spirit Pine’s branches, were numerous empty cones. Yet, despite no longer having seeds, they still retained a gentle glow. The jill was picking them up, examining them and whispering her appraisals aloud. Most of what she found, she dropped back on the ground, but occasionally she did find one that, at least from her scrutiny, was worth keeping, which she then tossed in her bag.

“You there!” shouted a voice Ven did not recognize. Tensing, he looked up.

From among the spirits gathered ahead, an older, taller one emerged to the front. He was lean, but looked strong and stood with confidence. His colors were very much like Ven’s, though his eyes were more a sky blue color. He had two pairs of ears just like Ven, but the larger ears were longer and went backward behind him more than up. The smaller ears, instead of going nearly straight up, spread apart at a wide angle.

He had a stern look on his face. He brought a hand forward, and light materialized into his grasp to form a pointed shaft like a spear, which he used to point, not at Ven, but at Peony.

“What are you doing there, young outha?”

Peony let out a little “eep” as she fumbled the cones in her paws. She let them drop, standing on her hind feet and holding up her paws to show they were empty. She was inarticulate. “Oh! Er, I, I uh..” 

Her questioner’s eyes narrowed, and he grunted in annoyance as he recognized the jill. “I shouldn’t have to remind you, Peony.” He then pointed to her bag, which glowed faintly with the cones she had kept. “The cones, empty or not, belong to the Spirit Pine. They are not baubles for you or your people.”

“M-Many ‘pologies, Mister Keshka s-sir, but er..” She continued to stammer and fumble in her anxiety as she tried to find some excuse. She then perked, her feet drumming the ground from both nervousness and excitement. “Tha’s not why I came! I brought a spirit wi’ me!” She then gestured with both paws behind her toward Ven. ‘“E doesn’ talk much, but ‘e’s not ‘xactly new here eith’r!” Her face brightened as she grinned, hoping what she was about to announce might improve her standing. “‘Is name is Ven..?”

“What..?” All eyes except for Peony’s went to Ven, whose eyes met those of this older spirit. The older spirit looked him up and down. Then, his visage softened, his mouth hung open slightly, his arm relaxed and his weapon dissipated as he looked stunned with astonishment.

The rest of the multitude of spirits had a far less subdued reaction. They erupted into whoops and hollers of elation, some even leaping with joy as they all rushed forth to meet Ven.

Peony watched them go past her, stole a glance at the older spirit (who still had not moved), and took advantage of the moment. Nonchalantly tossing one more cone in her bag, she quietly made her exit, hopping south into the trees.

With that older spirit being the only exception, the rest of the spirits thronged Ven. And it seemed like they all had something to say or ask. His smaller ears twitched wildly as both his larger ears and his mind were invaded with their words.

“It’s an honor to meet you!”

“Is it true what they say about you?”

“Is it true you already have a spirit weapon?”

“Can we see it?”

“What’s winter in Nisik like?”

“Was it as dark and cold as they say?”

“Did you see an aurora?”

“What did the Spirit Pine say to you?”

“What does the snow feel like?”

“How did you survive the Blight?”

Ven had only ever heard one voice at a time in his mind, which was initially unsettling the first time it happened. Hearing multiple voices with the barrage of questions made him very uncomfortable, and he only grew more so as they continued to press, while he simply could not answer. He covered his smaller ears, which did nothing to stop the questions from overrunning his thoughts. He then tugged on his larger ears, pulling them down hard--to the point of pain--in a vain attempt to drown out the questions he could actually hear.

He dug his fingers into his head, and his teeth began to grind. The boggle of words was overwhelming and tumultuous, a far cry from the calm and peaceful feeling that prevailed as he had journeyed here.

It was too much. With a distressed yelp, he forced his way out of the crowd and sprinted back into the Innusik Wood.

Bewildered at what just happened, rather than give chase, the crowd of spirits chattered among themselves with speculation and gossip.

The older spirit who had questioned Peony still had not moved, though his mouth had closed, and he stared after Ven as he watched him go.

***

Again, Ven ran as fast as he could, though not quite in the same direction as he came. He ran until the voices in his head stopped, and then kept running for what felt like a long time until he was out of breath. Gasping and wheezing, he came to a stop, leaning, and then slumping against the trunk of a birch tree.

He then curled up and began to shiver, but not from cold. Having so many voices in his mind all at once had visibly shaken him. Thoughts had rushed into his mind before when the Spirit Pine spoke to him, but this simply did not feel the same. It felt more like a loss of control, like his mind was not his own, and though it was both brief and likely an unintended effect, that didn’t make it any less upsetting.

Everyone he had met so far since awakening--even one not of his kind--knew who he was. While this suggested to him that his actions of that winter had indeed succeeded, it did not comfort him like he thought it would. Did every creature of Nisik capable of speech know him? Would he always have other voices come into his mind like that around his kin? Would he always have to deal with being thronged like he was just then? And if so, would he ever get used to it? Or would he grow to hate it, and push others away and just want to be alone?

Getting used to it felt impossible to him right now, but the idea of being alone felt no better. He curled more tightly, his wheezing changing to whimpers and sobs, and remained like this for some time. Eventually he did stop crying, but he did not leave the tree, sometimes sniffling or giving a shaky sigh. 

The spirit had begun to drift in between being asleep and awake when a different sound, clearly standing out from the breeze, reached his ears. Coming fully awake as his larger ears pricked, he sat up straight and listened. Something he could not see, only hear, cantered in the distance, rustling through the foliage. He heard it slow to a walk, making a strange clicking sound with each step. It also breathed heavy, as if it did so through flaring nostrils. The clomping and clicking told him it was a hoofed animal, but it sounded like too many steps to be another spirit, unless perhaps there was more than one.

He then gave a little gasp and stood up as he stared, hopeful, in the direction the sound came from. He knew of only one other kind of creature in Nisik that had hooves: the guh’nuu.

Could it be?

The guh’nuu were like deer in appearance, but significantly larger, having fur from the tips of their tails to the ends of their cloven hooves and the ends of their noses. This extra layering helped to ward off the cold when traveling and foraging in the winter season. Most older guh’nuu also had longer fur around their neck area that hung like a mane, often differing in color from the rest of their coat. Large, sweeping and branching antlers adorned the heads of the adults, both male and female. 

They were also migratory creatures. While Nisik was indeed their home in the summer, as autumn settled on the land, the herd would move south beyond the Innusik Wood, past the Outhan Plains and beyond the watch of the Spirit Pine, to more hospitable regions.

But there was one guh’nuu, a female, who in a time long past chose to remain in Nisik always. With grayish-brown fur, a mane of white like the winter snow, a faint blue glow to her eyes and a set of antlers that were both fearsome and majestic, it was this female guh’nuu who appeared from between the trees. 

Worry was on her face. “Ven??” she cried out, looking around as she searched among the trees.

The spirit’s eyes went wide, smiling widely as the sound of her voice confirmed to him who it was. He leapt with joy, waving both hands high above him. “Tuktua!” he exclaimed, then running for her. 

The guh’nuu looked at him in stunned surprise, and then, with relief she smiled and fought to keep her emotion in check. “Ven, you’re alive!” the guh’nuu practically shouted with glee, bounding forward.

Ven threw his arms around one of her legs in a tight embrace, and the guh’nuu laughed and wept, bringing her head down to brush him, careful not to accidentally poke with her antlers. “I missed you, little one. I feared the worst.”

He let go and smiled at her, but it was clear he did look a little sad as he did so.

The guh’nuu gave him a concerned look. She could tell from his face that he’d been crying. “What’s wrong, Ven?” She looked a little worried again, thinking he would be happier than this to see her. “You’re here, and you did it. Nisik blooms everywhere.”

Ven nodded in acknowledgement, but Tuktua could tell something still troubled him. The spirit stuttered a little in hopes that the words would come so he could tell what had upset him. Nothing came. Then, practically growling out of frustration, he reached up and touched his smaller set of ears with his hands.

“Ohh,” said Tuktua, appearing as though she had some clue of what he was getting at. “Hearing a lot of voices, are you?”

Ven nodded quickly, then shaking a little as if shuddering.

She nodded back. “I see,” she replied. “I’ve been told how you spirits can speak to each other that way. It must be very unsettling for many of them to talk to you in that manner, if you’re not used to it.”

A young voice then huffed. “Yeah, ‘e ran like ‘e had a tekaen on his tail.”

Ven and Tuktua both looked to the source of the voice. Popping up from beneath the ferns nearby was Peony. She still had her bag, which still glowed with empty cones.

Ven blinked in surprise, having been completely unaware of her presence. Tuktua looked surprised too, though only briefly. “Peony,” she then scolded. “You’ve been watching him being all upset this whole time?” She then eyed the jill’s bag. “ _And_ stealing more cones?”

“‘S not stealin’ if it’s jus’ gonna sit an’ rot on th’ ground instead!” protested the jill. “An’ I..” She hesitated. “..I mean, ‘e’s a hero, right?” 

She gestured at Ven while saying this. His ears wilted and he frowned at the outha’s words, his eyes going to the ground, which he scraped with a hoof. He didn’t feel comfortable being called that, mostly because that meant to him that he’d draw attention more easily. Attention that he’d had more than his fill of for the day. 

Tuktua did not look appeased at Peony’s explanation, the jill also wilting under Tuktua’s disapproving gaze. The embarrassment in the young one’s voice did, however, lend sincerity to her words. “After all th’stories you and mama and others’ve told ‘bout him, I...didn’ expect t’see him like that. I didn’ know what t’say ‘r what t’do..”

Tuktua then lowered her head a little more to ensure her gaze was level with the young outha. She looked Peony in the eyes, serious at first, but then softening as she spoke with a careful balance of emphasis and gentle reproof. “Now you see, then. He has feelings just like you or I do.”

Peony nodded, also eyeing the ground and shuffling one of her feet on it, in a manner not that different from Ven. “Yes, M’ma Tuktua,” she mumbled in concession.

The guh’nuu nodded gently, raising her head back up and looking back the way she had come. “Now, we should help him get back to his kind. K’enah sent word out, they’re looking for him. That’s how I heard you’d returned.”

Ven whined almost immediately at her words, looking very uneasy at the idea of having to go back. The guh’nuu, however, seemed set on it, though she did try to reason with the spirit. “You’ll be safe with them, Ven. And, while you have a good head start, there is still much to be taught to you. Your kin will want your aid against the Blight, but I don’t think K’enah will allow it until he feels you’re ready.”

Peony thought that was a silly idea, and looked skeptical. “”Ow is Ven ‘not ready’? ‘E’s faced th’ Blight before..?” 

“That he has, Peony,” admitted Tuktua. “Even so, K’enah’s duty as the Keshka includes the safety of his own kind, and he is not one to risk that needlessly. And unless the Spirit Pine says otherwise, the Keshka’s word is final. I am sure he will want Ven to train along with the new spirits.”

The jill looked annoyed at this, though not necessarily with Tuktua. Ven, on the other hand, whined again. Dejected, the spirit hung his head, eyes on the ground and all of his ears drooping. In the past, anything about Nisik and its creatures that Tuktua had taught him fascinated him, and left him only wanting to know more. Now however, the knowledge to be gained did not feel worth all the attention (and subsequently the voices of other spirits in his head) being among his kind would undoubtedly bring. 

The guh’nuu frowned, feeling sorry for her friend. This wasn’t really the happy reunion she had hoped it would be, but that only told her how much Ven’s first meeting of his kin had upset him. While she could not empathize with how he felt, after pondering for a moment, a possible solution came to her.

“All right, Ven,” she said. “Here’s what we can do.”

Both Ven and Peony perked at this, curious of the forthcoming offer.

“You will come to the Spirit Pine tomorrow for learning alongside your kin,” she began. Already the spirit and the outha wilted again at this. “But, I will meet you there, and before that, I will tell K’enah and the other spirits now that you’re still a little overwhelmed by everything and need to have some time alone, and to find yourself a suitable home within these woods. The spirits have lived here within the Innusik Wood long enough that there ought to be many unused trees and burrows, one of which should suit you fine for a home. And.“ She then motioned with her head to Peony. “You are fortunate enough to have already made friends with one very clever outha. I am sure she’ll be of great help to you in finding a place.”

Both the spirit and the outha’s faces brightened. Peony in particular puffed her chest with pride at the guh’nuu’s compliment, and one of her feet began thumping the ground.

“In time, I think the excitement of your arrival will wane enough that you’ll get comfortable being among your kind. Until then, I can accompany you at the start of each day you arrive at the Spirit Pine for learning. Would that work, Ven?” The guh’nuu offered the spirit a smile as she finished explaining her proposition.

The spirit hopped a little in place with joy, then threw his arms around the guh’nuu’s muzzle in a hug. She chuckled at this. “All right, it’s settled then.”

“I think I a’reddy know a good spot, M’ma Tuktua!” piped up Peony, almost giddy herself. 

Tuktua then lifted her head, looking up as her ears twitched slightly. Ven and Peony heard it too. It sounded like there were voices drawing near. The guh’nuu lowered her head again, and her voice dropped to an urgent whisper. “That’s them. You’d better go, Ven.” She then motioned with her head as if to nudge him along. She then looked at the young jill expectantly. “I’m counting on you, Peony!”

“Leave it t’me!” exclaimed Peony with a broad smile and a jump of delight. She then dropped to all fours and motioned with her head, whispering loudly, “F’low me, Ven!”

She took off into the foliage, going east. Ven looked back at Tuktua for one last moment where they both beamed a smile at each other, before he hurried off after the jill.

The guh’nuu chuckled again, before her thoughts returned to the approaching voices, and she went off to meet them.

***

The spirit chased the outha with a broad smile on his face. He wasn’t quite keeping up with her as well as he could, but that was all right. He was having fun, and he could tell by her giggles and her glances behind her at him that she was too. Inwardly he almost wished they weren’t moving as fast as they were. It was a welcome distraction from the distress of earlier, and he knew the faster they went, the sooner they would arrive at their destination, and thus, the sooner this fun would end. 

He then lost sight of the jill, and quickened his pace to catch up. He reached a point where the trees thinned out and he could see further ahead of him than before, but still no sign of the outha.

He slowed down to a walk, breathing heavily as he passed a large tree. He looked around in all directions, but Peony was nowhere to be seen.

The jill could barely contain her giggling as she was hiding behind this tree. She peered around it ever so slightly to see the spirit. His back was turned to her as he looked ahead of him. Making no sound, she stealthily crept up behind the spirit, and just when it looked like he was about to try to call out for her, she tapped him on the shoulder.

The spirit squeaked in surprise, jumping slightly before whirling around on her. But instead of looking frightened, he burst into a fit of giggles as he batted at her playfully with both hands. 

The outha responded in kind, giggling uncontrollably and fending off the spirit’s playful “onslaught” with her own paws.

When they both finally settled, Peony gave a big grin and pointed up. “We’re ‘ere.” She then remarked as Ven looked up, “She mus’ r’lly like you. Mama Tuktua’s usually pretty strict with us, spirit ‘r outha, don’ matter.” 

The tree had a huge trunk and appeared to go pretty high up. “See that, at the base of that firs’ big branch?” said the jill, pointing at it. “I think ‘s a door. But, it looks kinda old, like it ‘asn’t been used inna while. Was thinkin’ maybe nobody lived there now. But, y’could, I think?”

Ven could see what she was talking about, but the height of the bough was daunting. One of his hands went to his chin as he stared at it. How would he get up there? 

“I would’ve looked ‘nside, but I can’t climb trees, an’ my rope’s too short t’ reach up there,” said Peony with mild disappointment. “E’en if I made it long enough, not sure I c’d toss it up there.”

After a moment, the spirit got an idea. There weren’t really any knobs or smaller branches for him or Peony to climb off of, but perhaps the tree’s bark would give enough traction. He started to slowly back away from the tree. 

Peony watched him with curiosity. Digging his hooves in, he then took off in a run toward the tree, and leapt. Pushing off the bark, he scrambled up the trunk, his momentum carrying him a good deal further than a simple jump would have. Then, as his momentum ran out, he swung his arm upward. Light whipped out, the end of it reaching and coiling around the large bough. Ven then squeaked as his hooves slipped off of the bark, but he heaved a sigh of relief as he dangled in the air, the rope-like light holding taut.

Peony hopped in excitement, clapping her paws as the spirit then planted his hooves against the trunk and slowly pulled himself up. Soon he was up on the bough. “Y’did it, Ven!” she exclaimed happily. 

The spirit smiled back. Then, making sure he was safe on the bough, he reached down and extended a hand, yapping at her.

Peony blinked. She set her bag down and got her rope out, but she wasn’t optimistic as she looked between it and Ven. “‘S not gonna reach, Ven!”

The spirit yapped again, beckoning again with his hand, clearly eager to try anyway.

Peony drew near the trunk, and with as much force as she could muster with her smaller arms, squeaked as she hurled her coil of rope upward. It fell miserably short. She tried a couple more times, but was met with the same result.

The jill’s ears drooped sadly as she watched the coil of rope fall to the ground the third time. “Aww,” she whined sadly, fidgeting a groom of herself and then scratching her head as she tried to think of some other way she might be able to get up there.

Then, she heard Ven yapping at her again from above, and looked up. The spirit now sat on the bough with his legs hanging off. As he yapped, he made a pushing or kicking motion with his legs, and then a throwing motion with one arm.

Her ears flattened with annoyance at herself. Why hadn’t she thought of that?

Picking up the coil of rope again, she puffed a couple of times before she squatted, and leapt.

The large, padless feet of the outha allowed them to more easily traverse the deep snow in the winter, but it also enabled them to leap far, or in this case, high.

The spirit was surprised at how high she went, though she didn’t time her throw of the rope quite right, and so it still fell short. He yapped excitedly at her however, sure that she could do it.

After a few tries, he finally caught the rope, and they both squealed with excitement. The spirit then let the rope down, wrapping one end a few times around a stub where a smaller branch once went out from the larger bough. He still held onto it, digging his hooves into the thick bark of the bough as he yapped down at her again.

No longer having to worry about timing the toss of the rope, Peony could now just aim for the end of the rope. With a grunt, followed by an “Eek!”, she caught it on the first try, but now swung back and forth haphazardly as she clung on the end.

With the stub absorbing most of the pull, Ven was able to reach and, with heaving and grunting of his own, started pulling the outha up. As he did so, he inched his way toward where the bough met the trunk. It took time and effort, but eventually their teamwork paid off: the jill made it up with him.

The bough being large enough where it met the trunk to accommodate them both, the pair took a breather after Peony climbed up. She stole a glance at the ground below, but quickly pressed herself against the trunk, breathing heavy and nervously. “Ne’er been up ‘n a tree this ‘igh,” she breathed.

After they had both caught their breath, the pair then focused on the supposed door. Overgrown with moss and circular in shape, it did look like a door, but likely because of what looked like many moons of disuse, the door didn’t open. Ven pushed, even threw himself against it a few times, but it wouldn’t budge.

As the spirit did this, Peony peered closer. “Hey, look!” Ven stopped and, puzzled, looked at her, and then at where she pointed. On the right side of the door, near its edge was what looked like some depressed knob with a narrow notch running through the middle of it. “‘Ere, ‘old this,” she said, bringing her bag around and holding it forth for him to take. As Ven held it, she dug into it and produced yet another thing Ven had never seen before. She held in her paw something thin, flat and pointed that appeared to be made of stone, and it attached to a handle--made from wood, or perhaps bone--with twine and some kind of adhesive. The stone also looked sharp. “Thanks,” she said, then pressing herself against the door and wedging the edge of the stone into the knob’s notch. She grunted as she explained, “Might be some kind ‘f latch or lock, ‘f I can jus..”

With some exertion and a twist of her paws, the knob turned slightly. She tried again, and the knob turned further. Finally, with one more twist, a crack and a creak, the door popped open. “Yes!”

Ven yipped with delight, and together the pair pushed, the door swinging inward with another long creak. 

A musty draft wafted into both their noses as they both then stepped inside. The chamber within the tree was larger than any burrow Ven had been in. Above them, a small platform jutted out from the inner wall of this hollowed out section of the trunk, next to which some sort of drape made from vines and leaves partially hung over a small hole that acted as a window. Compared to other places Ven had slept, this place was open and spacious. 

Against one side of the wall was a bag, made in a similar manner like Peony’s, but now dry and fraying. Next to it, a long stick or branch rested, having a bundle of smaller plant fibers lashed on one end, like some sort of primitive broom. 

Then, they looked to the opposite wall...and their triumphant faces withered to shocked dismay. There, dried grass and moss clumped together to create what one could guess to be a bed on a smooth, flat surface. On that bed, as well as on the wall behind it, several bluish-white flowers grew, each having their own glow.

“Oh,” gasped Peony, hiding a sob. “Oh no…” She put a paw to her mouth and looked away, shutting her eyes.

Stunned, the spirit ventured toward the flowers, and he stooped to stare at them. As he did so, thoughts that did not feel like his began to touch his mind. Somehow, though he had never seen such flowers before, he knew what they were, or what they meant.

Then, his thoughts drifted to that bygone winter. He was tired, clinging to Tuktua as she said to him, “Just stay awake, spirit. And hold on. Whatever you do, do not sleep again.”

His thoughts returned to the present moment, and he understood. A spirit once lived here, but they had succumbed to a fate Tuktua had feared would happen to him. They slept for the winter, but for some unknown reason, they never awoke. And thus, in sleep they remained, until starvation or age overcame them, and they passed. The flowers were now all that remained of them. No memory, nor even a name for this spirit came to Ven as he stared at them. 

The death of one of his kin did sadden the spirit, but what pained him the most was the absence of identity. How could they be remembered, if there was nothing to remember?

As he felt his throat closing with welling emotion, the strange thoughts returned, and his face hardened with resolve, forcing the tears from his eyes. 

No, this would not be their final resting place. They would not be forgotten. He would see to that.

He then closed his eyes, and lowered a hand, the strange thoughts guiding him. One by one, like scooping water from a stream with one slow, continuous motion, the spirit scooped up each flower into his hand. As he did so, each flower glowed brighter before dissolving in his hand, gradually forming into a small, glimmering sphere of light that grew in both size and brightness with each flower he took. 

When he had gathered all of the flowers, he stared at the sphere in his hand before then closing his hand upon it. His hand shone brighter for a moment, and then the sphere was gone. He had taken the light unto himself.

But, only for a time. Someday soon, he would return it to where it truly belonged. 

Where they would be remembered.

Peony, despite her young age, was no stranger to death. This visit had shaken her a little, though it was more than just the sorrow of the death itself. She also felt remorse for bringing Ven to this place to witness this. She ought to have known (or so she reasoned within herself) that there was a good chance a place like this had not simply been abandoned. That they would find death here.

Not paying attention to the spirit, she shook her head, her eyes fixated on the stone knife she had used to unlock the door before stowing it in her bag. She would make it up to the spirit, she thought. She would find him a better home. “‘M sorry, Ven,” she apologized, meaning that for more than one thing. “I’ll fin’ ya someplace better. Maybe somewhere easier t’ climb to…”

She turned to him as she said this, in time to see the spirit gather the last flower. She blinked, her whiskers twitching. She even felt her fur stand a little on end as Ven took the light to himself, never having seen the spirit--or _any_ spirit, for that matter--do that before. “Wha..?” She spoke with subdued awe, feeling irreverent at the thought of doing otherwise, “..Ven, what did y’just do?”

The spirit breathed a sigh. Even if he had an answer, he lacked the ability to tell her, in more ways than one. Sniffling, he turned to face the jill, and answered a different question. He looked up to the wall, touched it with a hand, and then looked to her, giving a simple nod and managing a little smile.

The young outha’s eyes went wide, her nose and whiskers twitching. Even one of her ears flicked with her astonishment. “..Wha? Y’mean, y’ want th’ place? Are..are y’sure?”

The spirit nodded again, yapping this time.

Peony brightened, her face a mix of surprise and excitement. “Oh, er, uh..great!” Her feet drummed the floor. “Um..” Fidgeting briefly, she went for the broom. “..here, th’ place could use a bit a’ cleanin’.” As she picked it up, she then eyed the old bag close by and reached inside to pick an object from it. “Hah!”

Ven blinked at her, but before he could see what she’d found, she tossed it at him. He caught it in both hands. It was a small but smooth and flat rock. He looked back at her again with puzzlement.

The jill pointed at the door. “I bet tha’s how they opened th’ door. Pr’bly got it from th’ stream, ‘r maybe Kinu Lake. Y’might wanna find a few more like that ‘n case y’lose that one.”

The broom was a bit large and unwieldy for Peony, but she was able to make it work and went to it. The pair spent the rest of the evening cleaning. It was actually a slow process. For one thing, Ven’s general inability to speak made communication more challenging. On top of that, anytime Peony needed something from outside (such as a snack for them both), the pair had to stop and work together in order for Peony to safely climb down, as well as back up in the same manner they had done before. By the time they were almost finished, Peony was muttering something under her breath about finding some easier method for her to climb up.

Redoing the bed came last. Fortunately, grass and leaves were lightweight for even the outha to carry, so anytime Peony had gone outside during their cleaning, she had returned with bunches of fresh grass or leaves along with anything else she brought, to thicken or soften the bed. It took a little trial and error, but eventually they got the right combination where it felt like a comfortable spot for the spirit to sleep. 

With both Ven and Peony each having a long blade of grass in their mouths, they dusted their hands and paws as they gave the bed a final look of appraisal before nodding at each other and giggling, satisfied with what they’d accomplished.

Peony then peered out the window above them. She could tell by the amount of light in the sky that the sun had begun to set. “Eep!” She jumped slightly, and looked nervous, hopping about to grab her bag and making sure she had all her things. “I didn’ know we’d been cleanin’ this long; ‘s late!” Her ears drooped for a moment as she sheepishly added, “Mama’s g’nna be real worried, ‘r real mad. ‘R both. I should go.”

Ven whined a little sadly at her, his ears drooping also, even though he understood her reasoning. They then perked again as the jill said, “But, I’ll see ya t’morrow, right? We outha do some ‘f the teaching an’ learnin’ too for th’ spirits. Including..” She then smiled widely, pointing at his mouth, “..teachin’ how t’ speak. Then maybe we c’n actually chat, huh?”

Ven bobbed his head, smiling and yapping. He liked that idea. A lot.

***  
One more time, using her rope, Ven slowly let Peony down the tree, at least until she could drop and land safely. After coiling and stowing her rope in her bag, she slung it behind her and smiled, waving. “See ya, Ven!” she called up. “Even ‘f I get ‘n trouble, I had fun t’day.”

Ven waved back, yapping happily and watching as she bounded off into the bushes, heading south. As he stood there, pondering on everything that happened that day, he once again attempted utterance, even though there were none to listen but himself.

“..P..P’nee,” he managed to say. It wasn’t quite how the young outha pronounced her name, but he was happy and proud of the result anyway. He almost couldn’t wait to show her.

And that reminded him about tomorrow. The learning sounded like it would be a lot more manageable with Tuktua’s help, especially if it meant having more fun with his new fluffy friend. But of all the things he could learn about, probably what excited him the most was Peony’s mention of learning to speak. The spirit could recall many a time where not being able to communicate this way was, at best, a hindrance. At worst, it had been agonizing. The conversations he’d be able to have with Tuktua, with Peony, the Spirit Pine and others; the prospect thrilled him.

It wasn’t quite enough to fend off the yawn that came to him, though. Despite that it was only beginning to get dark--sleep had begun to tug at him. As he thought on it, he admitted it had been a pretty eventful day: a lot of traveling, meeting faces new and old, finding and tidying up a new home...and another small promise made. As excited as he was about tomorrow, perhaps it was all catching up to him now. And that was all right.

And with that, he stepped inside his new home, closed and turned the latch on the door, and with a sigh, settled on his newly-made bed of grass and leaves. He turned onto his back, staring up at the little window left uncovered. He watched as the light of the sun continued its retreat, musing on the events of the day and what the days ahead would bring..when sleep quickly came.


	4. The Land and the Water

Once again, Ven’s sleep was dreamless, or so it felt at least. Things he did hear felt as though he actually heard them in his ears. A calm, cool breeze. The groanings of the branches. And then..a single, sharp tap.

He heard another breeze. _Tap_. He heard the chirping of birds. _Tap. Tap._

Each tap caused him to stir, but the latest one was particularly loud to his ears. He blinked his eyes awake, and looked up at the small window above. More light was pouring in than when Peony had left the evening prior. That seemed evidence enough to him that it was morning.

He flinched and sat up as another sharp tap sounded in the chamber. The sound seemed to come from everywhere within the walls of the tree trunk, but intuition told the spirit that the sound was coming from the door. 

He took a moment to stretch--a luxury he didn’t really have in previous places he had slept-- before going to the door. His intuition was confirmed as he worked the latch, for he heard the tap more loudly, and felt it. Something hard was striking the door.

“Fin’lly!” exclaimed an exasperated Peony from the forest floor below as he opened the door. She was all atwitch with irritation, even hopping a little. “I’ve been throwin’ rocks at yer door for a while, did _they_ teach ya how t’sleep ‘r somethin’??”

The spirit was still waking up, but the sight of his fluffy friend sped up that process, his eyes and his smile widening. “P’nee!” he exclaimed.

The jill blinked, speechless for a moment. Her irritable demeanor then vanished, lost in the joy of hearing him speak her name for the first time. Her face lit up in a broad smile. “Hey!” she shouted happily. “There y’ go! C’mon, we gotta get to th’ Spirit Pine!”

She waved an arm, beckoning him down. He came out, but then realized he forgot about the smooth flat stone she had found for him, and briefly went back inside to fetch it. Remembering how she had opened the door from outside before, he pulled the door as shut as he could. It still felt as though it was ever so slightly ajar, but it was enough that he was still able to turn the latch with the stone. Once the door was secure, he casually dropped down.

“Woah!” exclaimed Peony, hopping backwards as the spirit landed neatly on the ground close to where she had stood. “Huh,” she then huffed, thinking out loud as her whiskers twitched. “If only gettin’ up there was that easy.” She then smiled again. “Ready t’ go, Ven?”

Ven took a moment to hide the stone beneath some loose dirt and moss at the base of the tree, before turning and yapping affirmatively, eager to follow the jill.

“Great,” she said, grinning before she dropped to all fours. “This way. No need t’ go too fas’ though. We c’n eat stuff we find on th’ way,”

***

The pair’s pace was casual, allowing them to forage for food with relative ease without it slowing them down much. Soon enough, they arrived at the Spirit Pine. And true to her word, Tuktua was there to greet Ven. So as to draw less attention, Peony went ahead first to bring the guh’nuu to the spirit. And so, Ven came into the clearing, sitting atop Tuktua’s back.

A stunning scene greeted him. There were nearly twice as many spirits in the clearing than what he had seen yesterday, and numerous outha were also mingled among them, making the place actually look a little crowded as they conversed with each other. Still, the Spirit Pine himself was as breathtaking a sight as ever. Ven looked up at the tree and smiled. 

In some sense, coming into the clearing riding Tuktua might have drawn more attention than doing differently, as she stood out even alone for her larger size and for being the lone guh’nuu among those gathered. For her part however, her size and height also prevented Ven from being pressed like he was yesterday. And while the voices of his kin did come to his mind, Tuktua could see their attempts to communicate in their smaller ears and did her best to hush them. It didn’t always help, but Ven was grateful for his antlered friend’s efforts nonetheless.

In time, the spirits and outha began to divide and disperse into groups, at which point Peony had a different group to go to. Ven, other spirits and outha alike circulated between these groups during the course of the day. Over each of these groups, a more seasoned spirit or outha presided, imparting their knowledge on some given subject to the rest of the group. The majority of this instruction took place within the clearing where the Spirit Pine stood. It was safe there in his light, warding off the Blight for all, and affording safety in numbers from the would-be predators of the outha. 

***

It turned out that Tuktua had a group of her own, largely comprised of spirits and outha that were most certainly younger than Ven or Peony, and so Ven was able to tarry with her a little longer. The knowledge she had to offer was actually not new to him, for he had learned it from her in that winter past, in a long journey across Kinu Lake. She taught about basic defenses, using the feet or hooves to fend off attackers, to leap and to run. Since she had Ven with her, the guh’nuu frequently called on him to demonstrate. The spirit didn’t mind the refresher. For him, it was more time spent with Tuktua, as well as not being pressed by his kin beyond those in his group.

Still, the time eventually came where Ven had to leave the guh’nuu to learn from Nisik’s other teachers. Despite her efforts, nothing Tuktua could do--escorting him to his next teacher, trying to reassure him herself, speaking with his next teacher or offering advice such as focusing on what was being taught--could completely rid the spirit of his separation anxiety. It was more manageable, however, and improved as he did focus his thoughts on the teacher’s words, rather than on the spirits or outha staring or trying to talk to him.

***

From his next teacher, an older spirit, Ven learned about the food Nisik had to offer. The berries he had discovered were but one of many edible foods in the land. And not all were berries. He learned of various fruits, nuts and seeds that could also satisfy his appetite, though he knew much of this already. And like the outha, he could even subsist off of leaves, twigs and grasses if he had to. Each kind of food was useful, whether because they were tasty or filling like the fruit and larger berries, less perishable like the seeds and nuts, or found in abundance like the twigs and grass. In addition to being identified, emphasis was made on signs of spoilage--or worse, corruption by the Blight--to watch out for in such foods. At one point, Ven was asked to offer any thoughts about subsisting in the winter, but that went largely unanswered since he still struggled with speech. Almost tasting moss and lichen in his mouth again--which was awful--as he remembered, he wasn’t sure they’d like the answer if he could give it, anyway.

***

Next, from the keshka K’enah, instruction was given on calling upon the Light to a group that was only spirits, though most of them looked older than Ven. K’enah spoke of how the Light was something that flowed through the land of Nisik from the Spirit Pine, and formed the very essence of their being. And with that, they as spirits could summon and shape the Light into forms that could be used as tools or even as weapons. After providing ample enough space, the keshka demonstrated this in many different ways, each to the wonder and amazement of Ven and the other spirits.

First, in one motion, with a swing, light arced from K’enah’s arm, taking the form of some kind of long, sharp edge that cut the air and the heads of the grass in front of him. And with another swing downward, a hammer-like weapon formed in his hands, slamming the ground with a force that shook the footing of those close by, Ven included. He then lifted a hand, at which light appeared again, forming a spearlike shaft like what Ven had seen yesterday, which K’enah then held in a brief defensive stance, and then hefted as if to throw like a javelin. 

Finally, he held the shaft straight up in the middle and, with his free hand, reached and then drew it back. Ven and the other spirits with him gasped with awe as the top and bottom of the shaft bent in the direction K’enah pulled. The keshka then grasped a thin string that also appeared as he nocked another smaller shaft that spanned from his fingers to atop the hand with which he held the original shaft. And with a ringing ‘twang’, he let the arrow of light fly, zipping past the group and landing harmlessly in the ground some distance away. 

“The Light can take many forms in our defense and in the defense of Nisik, of which I know but a few,” K’enah said. “Many spirits before us found other forms of their own. One such spirit was Naku, whom…” He then looked to Ven. “..I believe has shared his memory with one among you already.”

Ven was silent, first out of astoundment. Until now, he had not known the name of the spirit who had bequeathed to him the knowledge of which K’enah spoke. Then, his silence was born out of a solemnity that stirred in his heart as he remembered. For a moment, it felt as though he was there again, on a bitterly cold and windy winter night standing near the summit of the Broken Tooth, where he beheld the tree--and its memory--that was all that remained of Naku. Where he beheld the sacrifice Naku had made for another.

In that moment, a poignant question came to Ven: had he kept the promise he made there?

The keshka’s coax brought him back, and all eyes of the group were on him. “If you would show them, Ven.”

Fending off tears as he blinked, Ven nodded. Looking around to ensure he too had sufficient space, he lifted his hand, and just like he once saw Naku do it, in a swift motion extended his arm to the side, upon which light appeared in a whiplike form from his hand. Concentrating, he began to spin it overhead, and as the light spun around, a ball coalesced on the end, growing and seeming to get heavier the more Ven spun it. Finally, he grasped his end in both hands, and like K’enah with his hammer form, whipped the ball of light onto the ground, landing with a shaking force nearly equal in strength.

“Excellent,” said K’enah amid the awed whispers of the other spirits, then speaking to the group again. “The Light affords you all many possible abilities, but unless they are gifted to you by another, mastering even one is a long journey. Today, you will focus solely on summoning that light within your hands. You need not strive for a specific form, but you can if you wish. In time, you can choose a form that you feel suits you best, and focus your efforts there from then on.”

From there, the remainder of the instruction was left for Ven and the other spirits to focus their thoughts and try to summon the Light in some way like K’enah had directed. For Ven, it was easy to will it into the form he was used to, but that was his only advantage over the rest of his group. Even for him, willing the Light into some neutral, malleable form proved difficult. He was one of the few spirits in his group who managed it, though he did so only briefly. By the end of the instruction, the exertion of it all left him fatigued, but thirsting for more knowledge.

***

And more, he did receive. In the next group, taught by yet another older spirit, Ven learned more about their foe, the Blight. Experience and tales passed down through generations of spirits painted the Blight as a perpetual yet seemingly headless adversary. Every spring or summer it would come, usually borne on the wind in dark flecks, or festering within a creature journeying into Nisik. That it could come beyond those seasons was simply not believed, or confined to legend. At least, until recently. The winter malaise the Spirit Pine suffered by its foul hand shattered that belief, along with the other more firmly held theory that it simply could never endure the light of the Spirit Pine, or failing that, the bitter winter.

Both methods by which the Blight came to Nisik were insidious and dangerous in their own right. The dark flecks carried on the wind by their touch alone were capable of taking hold on life. Feeding upon that life, it would grow like a tumor, oozing a putrid discharge that was just as, if not more, capable of corrupting whatever living thing it came in contact with. This was particularly dangerous near a water source--especially one that flowed--for such contamination was in turn a danger to whatever living thing might drink from that water. Unsuspecting life could become a victim simply from drinking from the wrong place. In speaking along this topic, emphasis was placed on signs of corruption to watch for in water: if it was stagnant or discolored, or if it looked and/or smelled dirty.

While the Blight in this form was terrible in its potential, life that came under its corrupting influence was the far more immediate threat. It withered plant and animal alike, slowly consuming them and, in the case of animals, drove them to rabid madness. And once the physical signs of corruption and decay began to manifest, it was capable of spreading to other life, through the discharge or through contact with its bodily fluids if it were to bite or be slain by another. And even death was not a mercy, for the Blight lingered with its dead host, slowly claiming its remains and even corrupting the soil around it. And as long as its carcass remained, its corruption threatened to spread to any unwary or desperate scavenger of Nisik.

For the soil that became corrupted, this was a labor that the Spirit Pine was devoted to. Beneath the feet, hooves and roots of all living things of Nisik, the roots of the Spirit Pine stretched far and wide, encompassing the vast majority of the valley. There were few places there where the seeping corruption--whether from a carcass or other means--could penetrate before the roots of the Spirit Pine found them, and by his Light, cleanse them from the soil and the groundwater around them.

Blighted life could be killed, but only the Light was capable of utterly destroying its taint. And when it did, it did so without distinction between the Blight and its host, resulting in the death of both. Thus, it was a firmly held belief that corruption by the Blight sealed one to an awful fate, and exceptions to this were rare, and the subject of legend. One such legend spoke of an instance where creatures of Nisik were cleansed of the Blight by the Spirit Pine and survived, but that had only occurred beneath its very branches. 

It was also true that the Light’s living manifestations--the Spirit Pine and his spirit children--were known to be able to withstand and even survive such corruption, but not always. Because of this, not even he nor his children could not regard the blight with indifference, for they were not wholly immune to it. And, if left alone, the Blight would leave them and the rest of the life of Nisik with nothing to subsist on without succumbing also. And so, from the beginning, the Spirit Pine had taken it upon himself to use the Light to make the land and forest of Nisik a refuge for all from the Blight. And his children, the spirits, were his living will. 

The strongest or the most skilled of these spirits was chosen--by consensus or sometimes directly by the Spirit Pine--as their leader, known as the “keshka”. Second only to the Spirit Pine, the keshka’s duty was not only to lead in the cleansing of the Blight from Nisik, but also to ensure the nurture, training and safety of the spirits. It was a careful balance that the current keshka, K’enah, took very seriously.

And so here was Ven, learning on the subject. Despite being more experienced than those in his group on this matter, even he was not exempt from the training or the keshka’s charge. 

The young spirit did not mind, at least not for now. He was eager to learn.

***

The last instruction, but certainly not the least, was the one Ven had been looking forward to all day. With a group of young spirits, most of which were newly born, an adult outha taught them how to speak. With no form of writing available to them, the outha used the names of things as the basis for words to teach. It seemed as though the group had been at this for several days previous to Ven joining the group, and so from his perspective, the new spirits had caught on quickly. And though he seemed to struggle with it more than his peers, still he made progress also. By the end of the instruction, his vocabulary had expanded significantly, though he had buzzed his lips and tongue so much in making sounds or attempting words that both still tingled well after the instruction was over. 

All this instruction was so much for the young spirit to take in, and while he felt enlightened by all the knowledge revealed to him, it did leave him weary. Though he was happy to see Tuktua and Peony both at the close of the day, and was eager to share with them the words that he had learned, he didn’t have the motivation for much else. Playing with Peony was also something he wanted to do, but the desire for sleep was greater. And so, both the guh’nuu and the outha jill accompanied him back to his new home. When he arrived, made the climb and waved goodbye to his friends, the first thing he did after closing his door behind him was cast himself upon his bed, feeling overwhelmed (but in a good way) over all the things he had experienced that day. The thought then came to him of how he had missed an opportunity for something he had wanted to share with the Spirit Pine. 

...Another time, perhaps.

He barely had the chance to ruminate on the day after laying down: he swiftly drifted away in sleep.

And the following day, it went largely the same. Peony went with him to the Spirit Pine, Tuktua was there to greet them both, and the day was filled with instruction. And so was the day after that, and the day after that. Ven continued to run and leap during Tuktua’s instruction, even assisting the guh’nuu with helping his younger kin master the basics. The food instruction began to involve some travel, foraging and identifying the fruits, berries and other savory things that, in some cases, Ven could now speak the names of. He and his peers continued to work at summoning the light under K’enah’s guidance. He was getting it, but he still felt most comfortable with the form Naku had shared with him. Again he learned about the Blight and the Light, expanding on that knowledge with learning how to recognize additional signs of corruption, and what to do when they were found. And the breadth of his vocabulary continued to increase. 

It wasn’t until a few more days had passed that something completely new was introduced to him. 

***

After K’enah’s instruction had concluded one day, to Ven’s delight, Peony came to guide him, to at least what he thought would be more instruction about the Blight. It wasn’t until they left the Spirit Pine’s clearing, heading west, that Ven began to realize this was different.

As he followed her through the trees and bushes, for once, he was the one to break the silence between them. “P’nee?” he said, looking and sounding confused. Then, a question, in the form of a single word. “Where?”

The jill knew he meant to ask where they were going. “T’ Kinu Lake, Ven,” came her reply. He could tell by the tone of her voice that she was happy, or excited, or perhaps both. 

The lake was a bit of distance away. Rather than yap in puzzlement, he tried a word he’d heard others say, seeming to understand its manner of use. “Huh?”

She turned and stood, grinning. She had wanted to keep it a secret, but it was clear that was proving a struggle with how much she hopped in place or drummed her feet. She then blurted it out. “Ye’re gonna learn how ta swim!”

Ven was not familiar with the word, and it showed in his face. He was able to repeat the word, however. “..S..swim?”

“Yeah!” exclaimed the jill. Seeing how he didn’t appear to know what she meant, she fumbled for a moment to come up with an explanation. “It’s, um…” She then brightened as it came to her, and made a paddling motion with her paws. “Swimmin’s when y’move around in th’ water. So y’can stay up on the surface ‘f it’s too deep ‘r too strong a current t’ stand up.”

The only water Ven had ever been in—the stream that flowed from Kinu Lake—was cold, and the season seemed to make no difference with that other than perhaps make it colder. The thought made him shiver, his fur standing up a little. 

Peony could see the spirit’s mild concern, but waved a paw dismissively as she shook her head. “Nah don’ worry Ven, ye’ll be fine. Yeah, ‘s a bit cold, but ye’ll get used to it. There’ll be others aroun’ too ‘n case somethin’ bad happens. An’ for once..” She beamed as she hopped high in the air with anticipation. “We’ll both be in th’ same group!”

This did bring a smile to Ven’s face. In all the instruction he had thus far, Peony had not been with him in any of his groups. He yipped happily, even hopping a little himself. 

The jill waved her arm wide, beckoning him to follow before she continued ahead on all fours. “C’mon!” she shouted as she went. “Th’ sooner we get there, maybe th’ sooner we can be done an’ play!”

The spirit yapped, following the jill again in earnest.

***

Soon, the pair made it to where the trees gave way to the eastern shore of Kinu Lake. Peony made it first. Her ears flattened against the back of her head at what she saw. Ven arrived close behind, and he whined nervously, his ears drooping as he saw what she saw. Before them, scattered all around the shore and among the rocks were a host of spirits and outha. They were not as numerous as those Ven saw on his first day of instruction at the Spirit Pine, but there were still a lot. Many simply sat and rested along the shore, conversing with one another. Others were splashing in the water, playing and swimming about in the shallows or jumping off larger rocks. 

Mingled among the crowd too were spirits and outha alike that were armed. The spirits had the Light fashioned in the form of some weapon like K’enah had shown, some with bows, others with spears, and yet others with edges. The outha had bows and spears shaped similar to their respective forms of the Light. However, instead of being crafted from the Light, they appeared to be fashioned from wood, using stone chipped away to form the sharp heads of their spears and arrows. They all had one thing common: they simply stood watch, looking around and occasionally eyeing the sky.

It wasn’t the mild threat of danger that bothered Ven, or even the thought of the cold water at this point. He was worried he would be swarmed and overwhelmed again by his kin and the outha wanting to meet him, and Peony knew this. Both were wishing that Tuktua was with them to help with this like she had before.

“Ahh...cones,” the jill muttered sharply under her breath, her expression of frustration lost on the spirit. She surveyed the crowd quickly. Among them, near the water’s edge, she spotted a group of younger spirits and outha sitting in a circle by the water’s edge. A female outha, significantly older than Peony and standing on her hind feet, appeared to lead them. “There,” she said, pointing. “That’s our group. Ummm…” One of her feet tapped the ground rapidly as she tried to think of a way they could get to the group unnoticed, or at least without making much of a scene. And once they were with their group, she was certain the outha in charge would shoo away anyone not with the group. “Swift, smart an’ sneaky..” she quietly thought aloud, repeating those words she had previously used to describe outha to Ven. And unable to come up with anything she was sure would work, she sighed, “Swif’ it is.” 

She turned to Ven, pointing again. “Okay. Um...we’re just g’nna run fast as w’can to get there. If we get there quick enough, maybe th’ others won’t notice until we’ve ar’dy reached the group. W’should be fine after that.”

Ven’s brow furrowed, not looking that convinced, but he didn’t have a better idea himself. He nodded reluctantly, giving a little whine in the process. The pair readied themselves, Peony speaking in a loud whisper. “Arright, an’….go!”

The pair launched forth from the edge of the trees, hurrying as fast as they could. Ven could hear the growing whispers among others nearby. He thought maybe he heard his name once or twice, but by then, he and Peony had made it to the group and forcefully wedged themselves into the circle between a younger spirit and another young outha, and quickly sat. Ven looked at the outha next to him whom he’d pushed aside, and whom he did not know. The spirit’s ears drooped and he gave an embarrassed, apologetic smile.

The other outha didn’t seem to mind. Seeming to recognize him, they just stared at him with wide eyes, as if they felt so lucky to be sitting next to him.

Peony, in the meantime, tried to act natural as if she and Ven had been there the whole time. But, the older jill leading the group wasn’t fooled. She had her paws on her hips, with a pose and a look on her face that looked awfully similar to when Peony looked at Ven that way the other day. “You’re late, Peony,” she scolded. 

“I know,” mumbled Peony, the jill coloring slightly as her ears flattened against her head. Her embarrassment only grew as the other spirits and outha (even the one by Ven) in the circle snickered. They all seemed to know something Ven did not. “Was jus’ bringin’ a friend along t’ learn, too,” she added, still in a mumble.

The older jill’s glare shifted to Ven, and then she briefly gaped. Quick to guard her surprise, her face lit up in a smile. “Ah!” she exclaimed happily, clasping her paws together. “You must be Ven.” The others in the group began to gasp with their own surprise, whispering to one another. “I wasn’t expecting you today; a pleasure to meet you!” There was some nervousness in her voice as she added, “Your other teachers will wonder where you are, but all’s fair if you’re still learning, hm?” Then, her eyes darted in Peony’s direction as she kept the smile, but the look in her eyes suggested the younger jill was not out of trouble. “We’ll talk later, Peony,” she stated simply and sternly.

Peony wilted again. “Yes, Mama,” she muttered. 

The others snickered again, but Ven blinked, and looked back and forth between Peony and the older jill multiple times. Now the resemblance made sense.

With Ven now part of the group, Peony’s mother decided to start over in her instruction. She spoke briefly about how swimming was a vital skill to have, such as for crossing a deep, fast-moving stream to escape a predator. Then she hastily moved on to application, beginning with having everyone practice holding their breath for a time, explaining how doing this allowed them to float on the water more easily.

Then, the group moved into the shallows. Ven shivered as he stepped in, trying not to pay attention to the others (within or without the group) other than Peony or her mother. The volume of the banter of the crowd seemed as though it had grown, and he thought he was hearing his name more and more.

The spirit wasn’t the only one who noticed. Eager to distance the group from the onlookers, Peony’s mother moved the group further out, where the water deepened. “All right! Remember how we held our breath?” she called out to the group. “Do that, spread your arms out and lay back on the surface! Kick your feet to keep up, if you need to. Peony, if you’d show them, please.”

Peony nodded, and promptly demonstrated, hoping that obeying quickly might turn away some of her mother’s future wrath. Ven watched with interest. He could tell she had done this before. With her mother teaching, he could guess his friend was more here to help her mother than to learn herself.

Then, he tried it too. As he laid back and spread his arms out, sure enough, he floated. He had to wiggle his legs sometimes, but it was not difficult. In fact, he tried to keep afloat this way as much as he could, for doing so brought an unintended but welcome side effect. As the chilly water flooded his ears, the chatter on the shore faded away. It was a strange sensation, but he liked it. It felt calming to have a silence of sorts as he stared up at the blue sky.

He did not realize, however, that in his revel he had drifted into even deeper water. Peony’s voice then reached his ears, and though it was muffled to him, it sounded as though she were shouting. “Ven? Ven, not s’ far out!!”

Ven lifted his head up to try to hear her, but in doing so exhaled from the distraction, and with the bottom now too deep for him to stand, he quickly sank. He gasped and managed to push himself back up over the surface, but he began to thrash desperately to stay afloat.

Peony was already swimming his way, keeping her head above the surface and quickly paddling with all fours. She soon was at his side, trying her best to keep him calm. “Just hold y’breath again, Ven! Keep those arms out an’ keep kickin’ your legs! Jus’ go back t’where y’were before!”

As he bobbed on the surface again, Ven did like Peony said, laying back again and putting his arms out. He breathed quickly, having some difficulty holding his breath after the recent exertion and all the adrenaline, but with her help, he managed to return to floating. Once he’d done this, he began to settle, trying to look toward his friend without his eyes going into the water.

“There y’go, jus’ keep kickin’, I’ll guide ya back.” Peony pushed and pulled at one of his arms to help change his direction, and soon he was slowly making his way back to the group, to where he put his hooves down on the bottom with a huge sigh of relief. As they returned, Peony’s mother gave her a quick, approving nod, before she addressed the group again. “Seems like a good time for us to learn how to tread in the water! The idea is the same: hold your breath if you need to, kick your feet to keep up, and keep your arms spread. Then just push down with them when you need to stay up. As you get used to it, you’ll find you don’t have to kick or paddle heavily to stay afloat. Now, venture out where it’s too deep for you to stand, and give it a try. Peony or myself will be there to help you if you have trouble.”

Still floating above the surface, Peony went out further first. She held her paws out like her mother instructed, keeping them visible as best she could for the sake of demonstration. Her mother gently nudged the others of the group toward the deeper water. It took a little trial and error and some correction from the jill pair, but soon everyone was doing it. The spirits had an easier time using their arms to remain afloat (since they had larger arms and a longer armspan), while the outha managed more easily with their feet, for the same reason. Perhaps due to being a little older than the most of the group, Ven adapted quickly, and slowly tread his way over to Peony. It took a bit of time, as learning to actually move around on the surface had not been taught yet.

After Peony’s mother seemed satisfied with the results, the group moved back into the shallows and climbed upon a collection of rocks that stood up above the surface. One much larger boulder was higher than the rest, big enough for a few individuals to stand on. The boulder sat further out in the water, and so the water around it was quite deep. 

Peony’s mother continued her instruction as she tread in the water beneath the large boulder, while the rest of the class listened from the rocks. “Now, should you go under, you can get to the surface by waving your arms like a bird flapping its wings, and kicking your legs…” She slowly flapped her arms in the water to demonstrate. “...or, should you touch the bottom, just push off as if you were jumping. You will all get a chance to apply this now. Each of you will jump off the rock into the deep water, come up and tread water. Once everyone’s got it, then we’ll get to moving around. Like before, Peony and I will be here to help you, if necessary.”

Assembling into a line on the rocks, each member of the group approached the edge of the larger boulder with Peony standing nearby. Some were a little scared of the jump, but each eventually made the attempt, landing in the water, with each doing as Peony’s mother instructed.

Ven happened to be in about the middle of the line. It felt like the chatter of those watching from the shore grew louder as his turn came. Before he peered down at the water below, he stole a glance in the direction of those watching on the shore. Among them, a small group of jills, looking older than Peony but younger than her mother, waved at him. “Hey, Ven!” they shouted at him in unison and in a rather flirtatious tone, wrinkling their noses and fluttering their eyes before going into a fit of giggles.

The spirit froze, and felt a new sensation: he suddenly felt hot in his face. Peony then waved a paw in front of him to snap him out of it. “Hey, don’ listen t’those flopears over there, just do like m’ Mama was sayin’, y’ll do fine.”

Ven nodded, but frowned as he peered over the edge to his friend’s mother in the water below. He wished he could just hide from all the attention. 

Then, it occurred to him that he indeed could. Without any further prompting, he took a deep breath and jumped high off the rock.

And with a splash, a bursting swirl of bubbles and the engulfing cold, all the clamor, all the noise...just faded away.

Even in the summer, Nisik’s waters were cold, but it felt even more so to Ven now that he found himself completely submerged. He tensed all over from the cold, but otherwise made no effort to go up to the surface as instructed, instead slowly dropping to the bottom as he continued to hold his breath. Everything became muffled as the last remaining air bubbles escaped his ears. The growing pressure in them was uncomfortable, but not enough to deter him from his descent. He eventually felt himself settle on the rocks on the bottom.

The spirit just floated there, almost sitting, when he ventured to open his eyes. There wasn’t much to see. The rocks were almost completely bare of any life, and the water itself was a cloudy murk. He could not see very far in any direction. Even the view upward was like gazing into some bright fog.

And he heard nothing. Nothing, except for the thrum of his heart. As he had hoped, it was quiet down here, and he was largely hidden from view. Even if he could not stay, he intended to as long as his lungs would allow. His eyes lowered as he sat and waited, searching his thoughts for something to dwell on besides the increasing desire for breath.

He then peered upward as he heard a muffled splash above, and a blurred shadow appeared overhead, coming toward him. His friend Peony then came into focus. As his eyes met hers, the outha extended one of her paws as she swam down, reaching for and grabbing one of his hands as if to pull him up.

But the spirit wrenched his hand away, shaking his head at her as a spurt of bubbles escaped his mouth. She swam backward a little and floated in front of him. She gestured with both paws in a shrug and stared at him in complete bafflement, as if to say, “What are you doing??”   
She then swam forward and again tried to grab him, but again he deflected her attempts, even pushing her away. She then withdrew, glaring angrily at him as she vented a long string of bubbles from her nose and mouth, before she began to swim back up.

Ven frowned sadly as he watched her go, now regretting not having made his intention known to her beforehand. And now, their small struggle had hastened the moment he had tried to delay.

It came upon him suddenly, his chest seizing and forcing more breath from him in a mess of bubbles. He tried to cover his mouth with both hands to stop bubbles from escaping, but it wasn’t working. Beginning to panic, he launched himself upward off the rocks with both hooves, his heart throbbing hard and loud in his chest and ears, his vision clouding more than the water as he ascended quickly toward the surface.

Peony surfaced first, her mother waiting anxiously. “Peony, where is he?”

“Ugh!” exclaimed the young jill, shaking droplets from her head and ears, and sounding upset. “He won’ come up.”

Her mother gave her a blank look. “..What do you mean, _won’t_?”

Peony then began speaking very fast, her words blending together much like when she met Ven for the first time. Only this time, it was because she was upset and beginning to tremble as fear welled up in her, dreading that something awful was about to happen. “Hejustsatdowntheran’wouldn’comeupan’pushedmeawaywhentriedt’helpan’--”

At that moment, a small plume of bubbles came to the surface near her, and with a sharp gasp, Ven suddenly emerged, though despite as dramatic as he may have sounded, he did not break the surface forcefully. He then went into a fit of coughs, sucking in air whenever he could, having a distant look in his eyes as he was still lost in a daze. Even so, he feebly managed to tread in the water like Peony’s mother asked.

The older jill remained calm, not displaying the least amount of worry, unlike her daughter. Aside from the long delay, Ven’s attempt--even with the gasping and coughing--was no different from what she had seen before from other young spirits or outha. “Right, then,” she said. “Why don’t you make sure he’s all right while I take care of the rest of the class?”

“Yes, Mama,” grumbled an irked Peony, who grabbed Ven by the wrist not so gently as she pulled him away from the group where they might have a private moment. Her tone was not meant for her mother, however.

Ven was still catching his breath, only vaguely aware of Peony pulling him away from the group. When he finally settled enough and felt a little more normal, he turned in the water to face the young outha.

He was met with a splash of water that slapped him in the face and stung his eyes. He yipped out of shock (and a little pain). When he cleared his eyes, he saw Peony had a withering glare. The jill was shaking, and it was not because of the cold water.

“What’s _with_ you, huh!?” she hissed, trying (and mostly failing) to keep her voice low. “What were y’doin down there?? Y’could’ve drowned!!”

The spirit was completely taken aback. He’d never seen her angry like this. Yet, he managed to stammer an answer. “W-was..quiet,” he said.

The jill was flabbergasted. For a moment, she knew what he meant. She knew he did not like all the attention he had been getting. She even remembered Tuktua’s words about him having feelings. But, her anger buried all thoughts of sympathy. “‘Quiet’??” she hissed again. “‘Bout scared me t’death! An’ Mama, I bet she thinks I put y’ up to it!!”

By this time, Ven’s ears were all drooped and floating on the water, the spirit having sunk such that his nose was barely above the surface. He looked away from her, treading the water in ashamed silence. The pitiful sight moved the jill a little, turning away her cutting tone. She now just sounded very frustrated. “I thought..” She brushed her ears back heavily, then slapping the water with both paws, then sounding defeated. “..I thought maybe we’d play ‘ere after we’re all done, but I don’t think I e’en want to now..”

Ven said nothing, only stealing a glance in her direction, continuing to look and feel ashamed.

The jill then gave a long, frustrated sigh. “C’mon, I’ll show ya how t’ paddle around.” She looked past the spirit to her mother and the rest of the group. “That’s what Mama’s teachin’ the others now. After that, we’ll be done an’ I can take ya back to th’ Spirit Pine. ‘R home, if y’ want.”

Ven hesitated at her suggestion, but eventually agreed. The young outha first demonstrated for him how he could use his hands to paddle to keep himself on the surface as well as slowly move forward in the water. She then built on that, showing how he could also paddle his legs in a similar motion to assist in this further, or even better, kick his legs in the water instead to push forward. Soon, Ven had the motions committed to memory, and was doing so with ease, though perhaps not as efficiently as Peony. But, there was little joy to be had in this development. An awkward gloom had settled over them both, and it lingered even as they rejoined the rest of the group.

Peony’s mother looked nonplussed as she saw that neither her daughter nor Ven looked very happy when they returned. Nevertheless, she casually let the group encircle Ven as they all went back ashore, not to subject him to more attention from his peers, but rather to create a barrier of sorts between him and others not of the group who might try to press upon him as they passed by. Those who did come near, she shooed away until she dismissed the group, instructing Peony to take Ven back to the Spirit Pine where K’enah, Tuktua or other teachers would undoubtedly be searching his whereabouts.

The gloom had not left as the pair wordlessly traveled east through the Innusik Wood. Ven followed Peony with a slow walk, his eyes on the ground. He felt at fault for what had happened, how he ought to have told Peony what he was doing beforehand. Or at least, he knew that if he had, this contention could have been avoided. Along with that, he also felt hurt. It wasn’t so much the words Peony had spoken in her anger, but the way that she had spoken them. Even as they walked, he could tell she was still angry even though her back was to him. He remained quiet, not daring to speak lest he draw her ire again.

Peony, in the meantime, had actually become conflicted. On one hand, she envied Ven for how easy it was for him to be the center of attention, an ability she wished she had. In truth, bringing him away from his instruction to learn how to swim was all part of a scheme she had dreamed up. Here she was: Peony! Teaching Ven! The one who saved Nisik! Teaching _him_ how to swim! Then maybe she would have some of that glory for herself. But now that was all ruined, backfired even, all because _he_ didn’t want what she did, at all.

Still, it was also true that she just wanted to have fun and play with him. At the end of the day, the notion of having found a friend in Ven, famous or not, mattered more. And in a moment of weakness, she deliberately cast that aside. As they walked silently, Tuktua’s words echoed in her mind again and again as she remembered over and over how harshly she had spoken to him, and it made her feel terribly foolish.

She came to a stop in their walk, and stood, still looking ahead. Ven looked up, halting also.

She then spoke, more calmly. “List’n, Ven, I...I know Mama said t’take you to th’ Spirit Pine...but I still mean what I said, earlier.“ She then fumbled her words, realizing that didn’t sound right. “..I mean, about y’going home. I’ll still take ya home if ya want. And, um…” 

She briefly began to glance in his direction, but pulled her gaze back ahead, unable to stop frowning. “I un’erstand if y’re mad an’ don’t wanna t’talk t’me’r see me.” She then sniffed loudly.

Ven blinked and shook his head, stepping forward and stumbling with his words. “P’nee, s-sorry.”

The jill turned as he approached, saying “Ven, ‘m sorry,” the timing such that they both said sorry at the same time and stared at each other for a moment. 

“Oh what d’ _you_ have t’be sorry for, Ven??” Peony exclaimed in frustration, turning away again. “Y’weren’t e’en supposed to be there! Y’wouldn’ve had to deal with all those gawkers ‘f I hadn’ brought ya there! _I_ did that!”

Her voice had started to shake as she finished her last sentence, and she gave another long sniff. Now she felt embarrassed at getting all emotional in front of him, and she hated the feeling. “Cones..” she muttered again, sniffling some more. Now she wanted to hide.

But, before she could act on that, she felt the spirit’s hand settle on her shoulder. She felt the scruff of her neck stand up at his touch, and turned again, sniffling.

Ven’s ears were still drooping as he still had a sad expression on his face. He then used the same hand to point at her. He then uttered one word, as if simply stating a fact.

“Friend.”

Peony’s eyes widened for a bit, and for a moment she thought she was going to cry more at the thought that there was forgiveness to be found in that word. She managed to keep her composure. “..R’lly?” she asked, sounding surprised. “Y’re...y’re not mad at me?”

The spirit shook his head. With genuine remorse on the part of them both, he had no qualms with letting it all go. He then emphasized his response by also saying, “No.”

The jill could hardly believe it. She nearly threw her arms around the spirit in a big hug, but forbear as she thought that might be a little awkward. “Oh. Well then, um…” She thought for a moment, caught completely off guard at this. “..I um..well I still want t’make it up to ya later. Will that work?” she asked, hopeful.

The spirit bobbed his head, his ears lifting for the first time in a while as he smiled a little.

“Great!” laughed Peony mostly in surprise, casually wiping her eyes to rid them of the tears that were threatening earlier. “Oh, um..” She looked back and forth between him and the direction they were heading, having forgotten herself. “Where were we goin’ again? Th’ Spirit Pine?”

Ven shook his head. Like before, he’d had enough attention for the day.

“Home then?”

He nodded, trying the word himself. “Hh-hoomme.”

“Sure, Ven,” replied the jill, smiling a little. She pointed more to the south from the direction they’d been going before. “I know th’ way, just f’low me.” She was quickly back on all fours again and went her way, a renewed spring to her hop as the gloom was finally lifting from them.

Ven’s smile widened, glad to see that she seemed happy again, and no longer angry with him. He too felt lighter as he followed the jill back to his tree home.

He hoped the day she would make it up to him would come soon, for while she hoped to have found a friend in him, he most certainly had in her. And that was more important than any mere quarrel.


	5. The Ku'nuki Arrive

Some days later, Ven found himself again in the clearing of the Spirit Pine, receiving instruction. The majority of what was being taught, by now he had already heard. Much of the instruction from various subjects over the past few days were but repetitions. The only exceptions to this were his instruction on language, and the instruction from K’enah. The latter was an exception only because Ven and his peers’ growing ability in summoning the Light forced the keshka to expound in greater detail. But even that was growing tiresome, for K’enah at least for the time being had no intention of allowing them to actually apply what they had learned in finding and defeating the Blight. The group, not just Ven, was approaching a plateau in their progression. 

For now, his current instruction was again about the Blight, but the spirit was bored. Not far from the edge of the clearing, Ven sat with the rest of the group, half daydreaming and half nodding off to sleep. Then..

“Psst.”

The spirit’s ears lifted at the sound, which seemed to come from the trees behind him. He looked behind him, but saw no one. 

“Psst.” There it was again, and this time he could focus on where it was coming from. Barely showing from behind a tree, he saw Peony beckoning with a paw. Her fur blended in so well with the bark of the tree she hid behind, that he would have missed her had he not pinpointed her sound. They both flashed each other a smile before Ven looked back to his instructor. But how to slip away without being noticed?

Amid the instruction, one of the things mentioned was the Sirmiq, the great river of ice that flowed down from the mountains before calving into Kinu Lake. It was emphasized how while the Sirmiq did not flow like a river, it did indeed flow, ever so slowly at a pace only visible through the lens of time.

Ever so slowly. Ven lit up, his mouth curling in a mischievous smile. That was it!

He looked around him, seeing if anyone was watching. Finding none, he scooted himself backwards. Then, he waited. After a time, he scooted some more. Perhaps this way, like that enormous glacier, it would not be noticed how much he had moved until he was already gone from sight.

“C’mon!” whispered the jill urgently, obviously sounding a little impatient at his slow progress. Ven ignored her but kept at his gradual separation from the group. Soon, he was within a few paces of the trees. Then, as the subject shifted to the Spirit Pine, the older spirit instructing his group turned to face the great Tree, gesturing toward it with their arms.

That was Ven’s window. At the turn, he got up and darted into the trees. Peony was already running away, and he followed quickly after her.

After running for some time, the pair stopped to catch their breath. They were both giggling, too. “Whew!” said Peony. “Y’could’ve gone faster, but I liked the idea, Ven!”

The spirit gave a try at verbal acknowledgement. “Yeah,” he said, laughing a little between breaths. Then, he followed with a simple question with basic wording. “..Where..going?”

“Well y’know how I said some days ago that I’d make it up t’you?” replied Peony. He nodded. “I thought maybe we’d go to th’ lake ‘gain,” she explained. “I think we c’d find a spot to ourselves ta swim. There might be guh’nuu drinkin’ from th’ shallows, but I don’ think they’ll care ‘bout us bein’ there. Mebbe I c’d…”

She trailed off abruptly, apparently having seen something behind Ven that gave her pause. The spirit looked at her oddly. She looked suddenly nervous, even afraid. He turned and looked. He saw nothing but the trees, the sun filtering through the forest canopy and shining on the lesser canopy on the ground. Then, he saw a flicker of a shadow over the leaves, then another on a different spot.

“G’down!” The jill shouted, and the spirit found himself forcefully knocked down as she tackled him from behind, landing hard on the ground.

Winded and utterly confused, he started to try to get Peony off. “P’nee!” gasped Ven. “What--”

“Shhhh!!!” she hissed, resisting him and trying to pin him down. “Don’ move!”

The pair lay partly obscured beneath the ferns. There was genuine fear in Peony’s voice, which was incentive enough for Ven to obey and stay still. Moments passed with no sound but the rustle of the breeze among the trees. Then, they heard distant voices, whooping and shouting something as if out of joy. Ven didn’t understand it at first, but as it continued to repeat and echo, the word eventually rang out clearly.

“Ku’nuki! Ku’nuki! Ku’nuki!!” he heard among the distant shouting.

Ven had never heard the word before. He looked at Peony, who still held him down.

“Ku’nuki,” she said, but there was no happiness in her voice in saying it, only fear. More shadows flitted among the leaves, but in the sunlight above, Ven could see nothing more than silhouettes.

Silhouettes of something...things, soaring overhead.

Now too curious to stay still, the spirit managed to squirm free from Peony and stood up above the ferns. Peony didn’t dare stand up on her hind feet, but trembled as she tried to get Ven to hide again. But whatever these shadows were, they didn’t seem to pay any attention to the spirit. They continued to fly overhead, in the general direction of the Spirit Pine. 

Ven didn’t know what they were, but he intended to find out. He started in the direction of some of the voices, much to Peony’s dismay. 

“Ven! Ven, where’re you goin’??” she hissed urgently, staying where she was. “Ven, get back ‘ere!” 

She shook with trepidation, and a little anger as Ven continued on heedless of her protest. She then growled through gritted teeth, going after him slowly so as to avoid being seen by whatever creatures were flying above.

After a time, Ven reached a small break in the trees, where he laid eyes on a small group of the creatures for the first time. They were young or adolescent owls, even the smallest of them being taller than Ven, with plumage ranging from a bright, rich to darker shades of purple. Their eyes ranged from a bright orange to a gold color. They also had snow-white feathers, but these were only found on their chests or their faces, and could be distinguished from each other by how much white they had, or did not have. Finally, atop their heads, each bird had a pair of feathery tufts, almost resembling ears or even horns, with a length, angle and rigidity unique to each.

They chirped and hooted happily. Some of them, Ven could see other spirits who embraced them in hugs. It was clear these spirits had known them from before. Yet, he had never seen nor heard of these creatures until now.

Then, one of them in particular caught his attention. Those who were not with other spirits were busily fluttering and hopping about searching for grubs and other insects on the forest floor to eat to satisfy their big appetites after a long journey. One such owl, a male smaller than this group but still larger than Ven, had a large spread of white feathers on his chest, and white going from above the top of his eyes, between the eyes and down past his beak and neck. His ear tufts were shorter, but thicker than his peers. He looked tired, and was more sluggish in his movements to try to find food. And whenever he did seem to find something, the older or larger owls beat him to it. This happened multiple times, and he looked more defeated each time.

The spirit felt a twinge of sympathy for him, and wondered if there was anything he could do. Then, he squeaked in surprise as he felt a sudden tug on his tail. He turned to see that Peony had not let go of it. “C’mon Ven, we need t’get away from ‘ere,” she pleaded softly, still shaking with fear.

Ven gave her a perplexed look, not knowing or having forgotten why she seemed so scared. 

“Don’t ya get it??” she hissed again. “‘M _food_ to those owls, ‘r Ku’nuki ‘r whatever! At this rate, ‘f they don’ kill me, m’ _Mama_ will!”

The spirit shrugged back at her. If they could befriend the owl somehow, maybe then the jill wouldn’t be food to them. He gestured behind him toward the new arrivals. “Friend..?” he ventured.

“Oh, sure,” scoffed Peony, her words flowing with sarcasm as she let go of his tail and put her paws on her hips like her mother had done. “Jus’ give ‘em a little food, an’ they’re friends f’r life! Right up to th’ day they’re more’n three times yer size an’ just decide t’ swallow ya whole!”

The spirit missed the jill’s sarcasm, for in her words, he heard the solution. His face lit up, and immediately he went to it, digging around in the soft earth and overturning fallen branches in a search for grubs or other bugs.

“What’re you...ugh, sers’ly??” Peony just shook her head, but wasn’t about to repeat her mistake from a few days ago, especially when she was trying to make amends for it. She stooped to help Ven lift one fallen log, muttering and going into one of her long rambles, “‘M outta my min’, Mama’ll think rocks got inta my ears and stuck in m’head, nottamentiontheotherjills’llthinkI’vegonecrazyan’ewwbugs..”

***

A short time later, the particular owl that Ven had been watching had still not had any success in getting food. He sat on the ground, looking tired and glum. 

“Psst.”

The owl blinked, his short feather tufts pricking as he looked to the sound’s source. Emerging from between the trees some distance away, a cautious Ven and a quivering Peony came into view, each of them bearing a large leaf in a cupped shape as if they held something. The owl looked at his peers, saw they had not noticed, and then snuck over to the spirit and the outha, his eyes wide with curiosity. The outha trembled more the closer he got. As he drew near, he peered to their hands, and his pupils dilated as a hoot-like “Ooooh” escaped his beak. In each leaf was a wriggling assortment of bugs and grubs, though Peony’s offering seemed more animated because she was shaking so much. Keeping eye contact, Ven gently set his down on the ground before the young owl, and then quietly backed away into the trees.

Peony could not (or perhaps would not) do the same as gracefully. She abruptly dropped hers, and with a squeak of fright, turned and darted back into the trees after Ven.

The young owl blinked at their sudden departure, and then gazed down at this bountiful meal. He flapped his wings excitedly, then quickly went to devouring it all as quick as he could before the other owls saw what he had.

Ven couldn’t get the smile off his face as he ran, feeling a warmth inside for what he had done. Peony, however, could not agree _less_. As they came to a stop after a good run, she clutched her chest as she breathed heavily. Her other paw waggled a finger at Ven. “Don’ ever make m’ do that again,” she barely managed between breaths, looking and feeling as though she might faint. “I don’ think I c’d take it..”

She then noticed Ven’s beaming smile, which actually annoyed her a little. “Easy f’r you t’ be ‘appy, y’don’t have ta worry about gettin’ eaten by those things!”

Ven shrugged. She was right, but he was not discouraged by her protest. But with that deed now out of the way, he approached, sat by her and said, “..Lake?”

Peony’s heavy breathing lessened to a discouraged sigh, and she sat down also. “I d’no, Ven. I mean, I want to, but...we’d be out ‘n the open there, I wouldn’ feel safe at all with ‘em here now. Mebbe there’s somethin’ in th’ forest we c’d--”

“H’looo!” exclaimed a voice in friendly greeting from right behind them.

“EEK!” squealed both Ven and Peony, both so startled that they jumped, though Peony went nearly twice as high as Ven. They both darted some paces away on landing before Ven turned to see who or what it was, while Peony hid behind him. He raised a hand as if to summon his light weapon.

But to his surprise, the young owl from earlier stood before them, somehow having drawn so close to them without a sound, and not the least bit rattled by their reaction. He hopped closer, cocking his head back and forth as he stared curiously with his big gold eyes at Ven. He then spoke again. “I’ve never seen a bluuuuue spirit before! Thanks for the fooood!” 

Interestingly enough, the young owl had elongated both of the words, each as if to resemble a hooting sound. He bobbed happily. “My name’s Kuuuusuuuu,” he said. Apparently he made any word or syllable with an “oo” sound like that of a hoot. “What’s yours?”

The spirit relaxed, letting his arm fall. Despite feeling Peony’s vicelike grip on his back, he beamed that smile at the owl again and, with pride, stated his name clearly. “Ven!” he exclaimed. 

“Nice to meet yoouuu, Ven,” replied Kusu. His gold eyes then shifted past the spirit. He then slowly began to lean, cocking his head again as if to look past the spirit at Peony. The jill shrank as his gaze followed her, but the more she tried to hide behind Ven, the more Kusu continued to slowly lean. And when he stopped leaning, his head continued to turn, until he was looking right at her, but with his head completely upside-down. He blinked, and then said, “I don’t know what yoouuuu are,” before then happily stating, “H’looo, Don’t Know What Youuuu Are! Thank youuuu for the fooood toooo!”

Ven could feel Peony shaking against him. “Make’im go ‘way Ven, please,” she quietly pleaded, her voice muffled as she’d buried her face into him and sounding as if she was going to cry. 

The spirit’s smile faded, as the jill’s distress presented quite the dilemma. How could he calm her down without doing what she said?

Kusu then reverted to standing up straight. “Ooooh,” he said, staring at the bag the jill carried on her back. “What’s that?”

Ven felt Peony’s grip relax a little, and her trembling stopped. She peeked around the spirit just barely. “..’S a..’s a bag,” she replied warily. 

Kusu cocked his head again. “For carrying things?”

“...Yeah,” came the jill’s guarded reply.

“Did yoouuuu make it?” She gave a single nod. 

The owl looked impressed. “Oooohh,” he said, flapping his wings a little with excitement. “That’s so neat! I wish I could doooo that or just have one, but…” He then glanced at the tips of his wing feathers, and heaved a sigh.

Peony blinked at the owl. It then occurred to her that if Kusu was intent on eating her, he would have done so by now, or at least have tried. And there were few things she liked to hear more than flattery about her crafting. “..Yeah, it’s…’s handy,” she admitted, a smile showing ever so faintly. 

Ven inwardly sighed a little with relief as he felt the jill’s grip continue to relax. Kusu then looked more at Ven, and then upward. “I’ve never been to this forest before, it’s my first time coming here with my family. They called it...Nisik?”

Ven and Peony both nodded, the spirit smiling a little. Kusu bobbed his head happily. “It looooks pretty from above. Yooourr spirit tree looooks pretty, toooooo. Say.” The young owl blinked a few times, looking Ven in the eyes. “I haven’t had a spirit chooooose me yet. Would yoooouu like to choooose me, Ven?”

The spirit didn’t know what he meant. “Huh?” he said, then trying the word himself. “..Choose?”

“Uh-huh!” said Kusu with a nod. “My mama told me that when I come tooooo Nisik for the first time, that a spirit would get tooo choooose me. They would be my rider, and I would get toooo help them defend the forest for the summer!” He then hopped back and forth, shooting glares at some imaginary foe on the left and on the right as he said, “Take that, Blight! And that! And that! Ha!”

The young ku’nuki made it all sound like that would be a fun adventure, and Ven and Peony were slightly amused at his little act, even if not very convinced. Still, Ven was intrigued. He’d never heard of any of this in his instruction before, not even hints or allusions to it. It seemed odd to him to first learn of it from a ku’nuki. He was interested, however. So, after explaining, Kusu offered again, “Wooould yooouuu like toooo?”

“Yeah!” exclaimed Ven with a smile, but then he brought a finger to his mouth as he looked puzzled. “Um..how..choose?”

Kusu cocked his head, the feather tufts on his head flicking. “Oh, well it’s easy. Yooouu just touch me somewhere where I have white feathers, and yooouuu say, ‘I choooooose yoooouuu, Kuuuusuuuu.” He then brought his head lower so he was looking at Ven face to face. “Goooo on.”

Ven smiled brightly, reaching and touching the white feathers on Kusu’s temple. His face then hardened as he made the effort to say the words. They came out as though he spoke with great emphasis, but in reality, he just had to work harder to ensure he was speaking correctly. “..I..choose...you..Kusu.”

As he touched Kusu, the spirit sensed that spark within the ku’nuki that he felt within all life of Nisik. It fascinated him, seeing as how the ku’nuki were not from here. Which then prompted the question within himself: where did these ku’nuki come from?

Kusu withdrew and shook with glee. “Thank yooouuu, Ven!”

Then he did something neither Ven nor Peony expected. He lowered his head, peering toward the jill, and said, “Yooouuu can choooose me tooooo, Don’t Know What Yooouuu Are.”

Peony had been silent during the small ritual. She couldn’t help but feel calmed, having witnessed something that seemed to demand reverence and respect. Kusu’s method of addressing her actually made her giggle. “It’s Peony,” she told him.

“Peony?” Kusu blinked as he repeated the name, but looked happy all the same. “Well thank yooouuuu, Peony.” He then brought his head lower like he had for Ven, though he had to do so even lower in order to be face to face with Peony.

The jill winced as Kusu drew near. But then, that calm came over her again, and she felt stunned, even honored at this offer from one whom she had only treated like a sworn enemy. Feeling more shy than afraid, she stepped out from behind Ven, and stared for a moment. Kusu remained still, having closed his eyes as he awaited her touch. She had to stand up on the front of her hind feet to reach, touching the white feathers above his beak. They felt soft, almost silky to her fingers. “I...I choos’ you, Kusu,” she said with some hesitation.

As she withdrew, she stared at those fingers of hers, looking thoughtful as she wondered how many outha before her, if any at all, had done what she just did. She then looked up at Ven, who had nothing but a wide and warm smile for her. Against everything she had been taught or led to believe, it felt to her like the spirit was right. Maybe Kusu actually could be a friend. And there was nothing in her friend’s smile to suggest that he was trying to gloat; he was just genuinely happy. She narrowed her eyes briefly, though a smile crept briefly before she mouthed at him, “Arright, you win.”

Ven then tilted his head as an idea came to him. “Can..help..home?”

She blinked at this, and then realized what he was suggesting. It would be a lot easier to move things to and from the spirit’s tree home with the help of someone who could fly. The potential!

She narrowed her eyes at him again in mock irritation. “Oh, don’ start puttin’ ideas in m’head,” she huffed before looking back to Kusu…..inwardly wishing she’d thought of the idea first.

Oblivious to their little exchange, Kusu flapped his wings again, even hovering in the air briefly with joy. “Yay!” Now thoroughly enthused, he looked to them both and asked, “Lemme return the favor and take yooouuu somewhere!”

Peony suddenly went pale in her face. “Y..Y’mean..?”

Kusu jumped and flapped his wings, hovering for a time again. “I feel lots better after all that fooood. I think I coooould hold yoooouuu both!”

Even Ven looked nervous at the idea, but on the other hand, refusing the offer felt rude. Not only that, Kusu’s explanation also suggested this was something he would have to get accustomed to, anyway. He drew near as Kusu landed and, offering a nervous smile, voiced his acceptance of the offer with a yap. “Oh goooodie,” said Kusu happily, lowering himself a little to make it easier for the spirit to climb on.

Ven jumped up onto the owl’s back, exhaling as if trying to remain calm. He looked down at Peony. The jill’s ears were flat against the back of her head, and she looked afraid, indecisive, or both. The spirit frowned a little, feeling sorry for her. He hoped she would come, but he would also understand if she chose not to.

She then kicked at the dirt with her foot. “Ooohhh,” she grumbled in frustration. “Mama’ll kill me when she finds out, e’en if I hop away right now,” she muttered. And she stepped forward slowly, looking up at Ven before she leapt up. She landed on Kusu’s back a little awkwardly, but the spirit was able to help steady her as well as find a part of Kusu’s feathers that she could grasp.

Seeming to know nothing of the animosity that outha might harbor for the ku’nuki, Kusu turned his head to look back at her and wondered aloud, “Why woooould your mama wanna doooo that?”

Not wanting to give the real answer, the jill responded with, “...’s complicated.”

Kusu was not familiar with the word. “Complicated,” he echoed slowly, blinking vacantly. He turned back ahead, and puffed and shook his feathers for a moment, choosing not to inquire further. “Got a goooood grip?” he asked. Ven and Peony both tightened their grasp--Peony more so--and Ven yapped. “Ready?” the young owl then said.

Ven then turned and looked at Peony. The jill had started to shake, but stopped as her eyes met the spirit’s. She could see Ven looked nervous too, yet still he tried to offer her an assuring smile, even reaching to give her shoulder a calming touch before renewing his own grip on Kusu.

“And off we...goooooo!” The owl broke into a run between the trees, and when he reached a clear enough spot, leapt into the air, his wings beating hard and rapid. Suddenly they weren’t running between the trees any more; they were weaving between them through the air, going higher and higher.

“Oh! Ohhhhh!” squealed Peony in fright. It only rose in pitch as they rose higher. Ven shared in her fright, though vocalizing it was still only welling in his throat. He couldn’t hold it back any longer as they broke through the forest’s upper canopy. By then, both he and Peony were screeching, “EEEEEEK!!” They both buried their faces into Kusu’s plumage, shutting their eyes tight, not daring to look around, let alone down as they climbed higher and higher.

Then Ven noticed it first as Kusu leveled out. He only heard the flap of the young ku’nuki’s wings, and the wind howling in his ears with an intensity he had only felt in one other place. His eyes watered as he hesitantly opened them, and found himself staring into Kusu’s feathers. He then sat up, and gasped at what he saw.

At first, his breath became rapid with fear as he saw how high they were. They were well above the Innusik Wood, heading west and now coming over Kinu Lake. But the more he looked around, the more the fear was swallowed up in awe of the staggering beauty before him. He looked behind him, and saw the Spirit Pine, towering in radiant majesty over the rich, thick green of the Innusik Wood. To the south, he saw the grass of the Outhan Plains, shimmering in the wind. His eyes followed the glistening stream that ran through it, bringing his gaze back to Kinu Lake below him. The great lake was a bright turquoise, sparkling in the afternoon sun. He could see guh’nuu moving along its shores, grazing and drinking from the waters. Then, his eyes went to the Sirmiq, the great river of white and light-blue ice that flowed down from the mountains. And the mountains! They were the only things taller than the Spirit Pine in all of Nisik. They were all around, each with their own shape and size, many of which still had snow on their caps. He finally then looked ahead, and saw the Broken Tooth, a mountain that earned its name from having a largely smooth summit instead of jagged points or ridges. The flat mountain itself was free of snow, but near the top, the spirit spotted the glimmer of a familiar light.

It was beautiful, all of it. It was just as stunning as when he once saw it in this season, in vision. And once again, he knew and felt within himself that he was part of it all. 

The spirit then felt something touch his leg. He looked behind him and saw Peony, slowly lifting herself up to look down and around. She had inadvertently touched him as she steadied herself to take in the view. He could see in her face and in her eyes that she was going through the same emotions as he had: a gripping fear that soon fled before overwhelming wonder. She lowered herself, covering her mouth with a paw as emotion slowly overcame her.

She then looked up, and their eyes met again. Her paw left her mouth, and they both exchanged smiles, and then laughed in amazement as tears flowed from both his and her eyes. The spirit knew he couldn’t blame just the wind for her tears, or his own.

Kusu glanced behind him, speaking for the first time since they’d taken off. “Where tooooo, Ven?”

Ven blinked, brought back to the present moment. Without hesitation, Ven turned and pointed straight ahead toward the Broken Tooth. “Light!” he shouted.

The ku’nuki’s gaze followed Ven’s finger, looking ahead. “I see it!” he shouted, the flapping of his wings quickening as he picked up speed to counter the wind.

With his vision fixed on the light, that question Ven asked himself several days before had stirred within his mind and heart again, and he lowered himself so the wind was less in his face. 

Peony too stared at the distant light. She had thought to ask what it was, but thought it’d be difficult to say over all the wind. She took a look at the Spirit Pine behind her, smiling at the view before she too lowered herself to spare her eyes from all the wind.

***

It took some time before they reached the mesa upon which the light rested, but when they did, Kusu found there was plenty of space to land. He alighted gently and gracefully, breathing a little heavy. “We’re here!” he triumphantly proclaimed as he looked behind him at Ven and Peony. 

It was windy on that mesa, and it was covered mostly with dirt and rock, with the occasional patches of green grass. Against the mountain, what once looked like an opening to a cave had been buried in some long-past collapse of dirt and rock. And near the edge, stood a lone pine tree. It was tall and narrow, but unyielding as it gently swayed in the near-constant wind. Embedded within its base was a bright sphere of light that gently pulsed, giving the whole tree a luster of its own.

“Ooooooh,” said Kusu as he stared while Ven and Peony dismounted. Ven quickly went toward it, but then his stride became very slow as he drew close to it. Still in awe, Peony walked to the side, taking a moment to gaze out at the Spirit Pine before she turned herself toward the closer tree. The awe did not leave her.

Kusu hopped over, joining the jill before he too became enthralled with the tree. “It’s...” he began. “It’s like a..”

Peony then finished the sentence. “Like a li’l baby Spirit Pine.”

Kusu cocked his head at her and blinked at her in astonishment. “....Yeah,” he replied with surprise, as if that actually was what he was going to say. But unlike the Spirit Pine, there were no glowing cones on this tree, only the Light that emanated from its branches, and the sphere at its base.

Ven had not said a word since they landed. He had become fixated on the tree, still slowly approaching it.

Kusu did not know why, but he felt as though he should keep his voice low. Blinking in puzzlement, he tilted his head toward Peony and asked quietly, “...What’s he doooooing?”

The jill lifted a paw to her chin, looking concerned. She knew what this tree was, or at least had some semblance of its significance, but not an explanation for what Ven was doing. “‘M…’m not sure,” she said. “That tree...used t’be another spirit. I think it..it once shared its mem’ry with ‘im..” She frowned a little, for from this angle, she could see that Ven looked sad, but did not know why.

“Oh.” Kusu’s eyes then widened for a moment. “Ooohhh, yeah,” he then said to her like he had just remembered something. “It taught him a way toooo uuuuuuse the Light?”

The jill turned and blinked at the ku’nuki, dumbfounded. “..Y’know about that?” This demonstration of knowledge boggled her mind. She would have expected a spirit or perhaps an outha older than her to know that, but not a creature who not long ago, she thought would only want to eat her. What else, she thought, did the young owl know?

Before she could venture to ask or Kusu could answer, the light of the tree pulsed brighter, giving off a soothing hum as it did so. Their attention was drawn back to Ven, who was right in front of the tree now, kneeling.

Words and visions of the past all seemed to flow together in Ven’s mind as he knelt and gazed, unblinking, at the sphere of light at the tree’s base. _Many seasons ago, I lost a child to the Blight_ , he heard the Spirit Pine say in his mind. He saw the Broken Tooth and the glimmer of that light from a far distance as the words of Tuktua echoed: “That’s it, Ven! That’s the Broken Tooth. And the memory...” He saw the face of Naku as they fought, struggled and, like the Spirit Pine said, were lost to the Blight. And he saw the yellow, terrified eyes of a corrupted bird in its final moments.

Peony’s observation was right. The words and images brought the emotions of those moments with them. The spirit looked as though he would break down as a remnant of the unspeakable anguish from that fateful night touched his mind and heart, wrenching the latter.

All of those things that he saw, heard and felt then centered on the one thing that brought him solace in that moment: a promise he made. And then, the question that came to him during his instruction some days before: had he kept that promise?

He liked to think that he had. Nisik bloomed, as Tuktua had said. And he could both see and feel that as he journeyed here. And so he answered that question, adding emphasis as the words were not only thought, but spoken.

“...I remember.”

After some thought on forming the words, he then added slowly, “And promise.”

The tree pulsed and hummed again at this. He bowed his head and closed his eyes briefly. He then arose, wiping his eyes with an arm and having a firm look on his face that slowly softened as he returned to his friends.

Peony had heard the spirit’s words, her fur standing up on end a little as she felt much like she had when she witnessed him gathering those flowers several days before. She then looked sad out of concern for him, her ears flattening against her head. She knew it was here that he obtained the memory, but little was known beyond that until he and Tuktua were reunited. She could only guess from his countenance that something terrible had happened.

Unsure if her friend even wanted to answer, the jill hesitantly asked as he returned, “..Ven, r’member what? What did y’promise?”

The spirit still looked downcast, despite trying his best to look stronger in front of his friends. He walked past her and stopped at the edge, looking out over the land. He then waved a hand as if to gesture toward the beauty. Not having used or tried the word much, he answered at least one of the questions, if not both: “..P..protect. Protect Nisik.”

Peony thought for a moment. With that answer and the look on his face, the clever jill discerned his thoughts. She tugged at his arm, as if to get him to look at her. “Y’don’ think you have?” she asked, a bit incredulous. “If th’ tales of you ‘r true--” She then thumped one of her feet for emphasis. “--an’ I b’lieve they are (‘cuz Mama Tuktua wouldn’ lie ‘bout somethin’ like that), then ‘f _course_ y’have!”

The spirit still didn’t feel that convinced. Perhaps that was because, he suspected, the tales she spoke of said nothing of the doubt, or the remorse, or the terrible sorrow he felt in that winter past, notwithstanding his triumphs.

Kusu had been silent. He thought he felt a chill at what he had witnessed, his feathers puffing out for a time. As he listened to the others’ exchange, he realized something. “Oooooh,” he interrupted, his pupils dilating again as he brimmed with glee, his beak even gaping open. “A Spirit _Guardian_ ,” he observed aloud.

Ven and Peony both looked at him, both looking confused. He hopped, then flapped with elation. “They chose _me_ ,” he said giddily, and then exclaimed, “I’ve been chosen by a _Spirit Guardian!_ Hoooooo!” He hooted joyfully, flapping and dancing about, caring little for how ridiculous he might appear in doing so.

Peony stared with bewilderment, but then giggled a little. The ku’nuki’s happiness was contagious. “See,” she said as she looked back at Ven, offering a little smile. “W’ve barely met’m, and e’en _he_ believes in you.”

At that moment, at those words, Ven remembered something else. He remembered how Tuktua had expressed similar thoughts, that she and the Spirit Pine both believed in him, even if he did not. And he thought then, how with the help of a friend, he could do what was required of him. That had been a great source of hope and encouragement for him.

And as the outha’s words sunk in and he watched Kusu’s animated elation, that hope stirred within him again, chasing away the sorrow and doubt that had lingered. His ears lifted, a faint smile finally showing. “Yeah,” he agreed as Kusu came back over. He looked out over the land, and the outha and ku’nuki joined him. “Protect..with friends.”

Kusu hooted happily. Peony beamed a smile, but also gulped a little. She could only imagine the sort of adventures she might be in for, with a statement like that. Happiness, excitement, and anxiety were all amix within her. 

After they all continued to admire the scenery for a time, the jill finally spoke first. “We, uh...we sh’d pr’bly get goin’, huh? I bet they’re lookin’ for ya again, Ven.”

The spirit heaved a sigh, but nodded. “Back toooo the Spirit Pine, then?” piped up Kusu.

“Mmhmm,” hummed Ven. He hopped up onto Kusu’s back, then reaching to offer a hand to help Peony up.

“Heh,” chuckled the jill as she caught his hand with a paw and clambered up. “Y’re gettin’ better with th’ words. How soon do y’think until I’ll have t’tell ya to stop talkin’?” 

They both giggled at this as Kusu shook and readied himself for his next flight. He gave a happy hoot as he looked back at them both. “Are yooouuu ready?”

Both nodded and smiled back, though it was clear Peony was trying to hide her uneasiness at the thought of being airborne again. “Hoooolld tight,” Kusu said, then looking forward before breaking into a run. “Here we gooooooo!” He leapt off the edge into the air, and then went into a dive, prompting a squeak of alarm from both of his riders before he then leveled out, flapping his wings and carrying them forward. The air currents had shifted, giving the ku’nuki a tailwind that sent them soaring fast away from the Broken Tooth.

As they went, Ven looked back, giving one last glance, and a nod, to the tree on that small plateau. Once more, he mentally reaffirmed his promise. And like he had with Tuktua at the start of a previous journey, he felt that assurance again.

He could keep his promise..with the help of friends.


	6. An Unlikely Trio

Beyond the wind in their ears, the journey was quiet. Boosted by the tailwind, Kusu did indeed fly faster than he had on the way to the Broken Tooth. Ven lifted himself up to gaze at the Spirit Pine far in the distance. He heaved a happy sigh, again taking in the beautiful sight before him.

His brow then furrowed a little. It would draw a lot of attention, landing in the clearing riding a ku’nuki, not to mention that it might land Peony right into trouble being so near a ku’nuki, from what she had said. Maybe, he thought, they could land in the forest a short distance away and split up from there.

His thoughts were then interrupted by a strange sound: a short, distant but sharp ‘boom’. Startled by the sound, Kusu screeched and wavered in his flight, giving both Ven and Peony a scare and causing both to grip the ku’nuki more tightly. “What was that?” he shouted, looking back at his riders. 

Having dropped back down when Kusu wavered, the spirit lifted himself up again and looked below them, the sound having originated somewhere from there. His eyes fell upon the Sirmiq. At the base of its terminus, he saw small waves and remnants of a big spray of water, with smaller bits of ice crumbling off the top and falling into the lake. He thought he could see a large chunk of the ice floating above the surface of the lake amid other much smaller pieces. Had it just broken off and fallen in? It must have been huge, and the sound loud for them to hear it all the way up here, and over the wind.

He then spotted something else. Farther along toward the eastern edge of the glacier, he thought he saw something on the water, leaving a small wake. He leaned forward and pointed toward it, curious to find out what it was. “There! Down!” he shouted.

Kusu gave a long hoot of acknowledgement, banking gently to slowly descend as the spirit directed. Surprisingly, he seemed conscious of the safety of his riders, as he didn’t bank too sharply. 

Even with the gentle descent, Peony felt like her heart had gone up to her throat, her paws burning with the strain of gripping Kusu so tightly for so long. Forcing herself to relax, she too lifted herself up a little as Kusu leveled out, and tried to look ahead. With Ven being in front of her, she found it impossible to do so without leaning at a dangerous angle. “What d’you see?” she shouted over the wind.

As they drew nearer, Ven could not yet clearly see what was on the water. He could only make out that it was not one, but four long objects on the water, but he still did not know what they were. And even if he could tell, he wasn’t sure he could speak the words for them. 

Unknown to his new friends, Kusu had much keener eyesight, and provided an answer, of a sort. “There’s a lotta Peonys down there!” he shouted.

The jill blinked, and then chortled, patting Kusu on the back with one of her paws. “That’s _outha_ , Kusu. W’re called ‘outha’, Peony is _my_ name,” she shouted back.

“Oooouutha,” he repeated and, after a thought, remarked, “Easy toooo say an’ remember!”

They both had to keep shouting in order to be heard over the wind. “What else can y’see?” queried the jill.

The ku’nuki narrowed his eyes for a moment. “They’re on the water, riding some long, floooooaty things.”

“Boats,” clarified Peony.

“Booooats?”

“..Boats,” came the labored echo from Ven, his first time saying the word. Peony then continued. “Which way’re they headin’?”

“Toooooooward the…” Kusu then seemed at a loss for words, as he had never seen something like the Sirmiq before. “...that big bluuuue ice thing.”

He then squawked in shock, as Ven’s grip on him had suddenly tightened to the point of pain. The spirit had quietly listened to their exchange, slowly lowering himself, but at the last answer he bolted up straight, and began to breathe heavily. “Hurry, Kusu!” he yelled.

The ku’nuki could sense the fear and urgency in the spirit’s voice, and feel it in his grip, even though he did not know the cause. He nodded nonetheless. “I’ll try! Hoooold on!”

Ven then lowered himself again to help the ku’nuki fly faster. He then felt a tug on his leg, and glanced back. Peony had lowered herself also, but she looked unnerved. If _he_ was afraid, it only made sense to the jill that she had every reason to be afraid, too. “Ven, what is it, wha’s wrong?”

“I…” The spirit had nothing. He had only this sudden, heavy premonition of impending danger, but he didn’t know why. And try as he might, he had neither the words nor the articulation to answer her. He only managed a clumsy, incoherent stammer before he quickly looked ahead again.

Kusu had begun to gently dip again, nearing the surface of Kinu Lake and affording both Ven and Peony a view of the scene before them. By then, they were close enough to get a glimpse of the outha on the water. They were all young or adolescent, ten in all, riding in four long boats. Narrow and concave in shape and primitive in design, the boats appeared to have been fashioned by stripping and lashing together long, thicker branches of trees. They had no sails, their occupants propelling and steering their craft with oars. As Kusu had said, they were moving toward the Sirmiq, the majority of them appearing to be staring up at the wall of ice with a look of awe not that different from the one Ven had when he laid eyes on it for the first time. 

But the spirit was not in awe this time. Unable to find the words to warn them of the unknown but seemingly imminent danger, he was about to raise a cry of alarm….when disaster struck. There was a sharp crackling sound, then a crumbling sound. And then, a deafening, thunderous roar. A huge slab of ice broke off the face of the Sirmiq from top to bottom, crashing into the lake water below. 

And the outha on the water were too close. The slab itself missed them, but amid squeals and cries of terror, every boat and outha below disappeared from view in the huge waves and the explosive spray born from the impact.

Kusu screeched in fright, banking away just short of the spray and evading a hail of stray chunks of ice. Unable to find words, Ven gave a sharp cry of distress. Peony clapped a paw to her mouth, unable to stop herself from giving vent to a horrified scream.

And then there was pandemonium. As the roar died and the spray cleared, the air was filled with screams for help and cries of shock or pain. All but one of the boats had been capsized by the waves, but every outha on them had been thrown from them into the frigid, iceladen water, and the oars scattered everywhere. One outha had managed to pull themselves onto the boat that had not capsized, but the remainder were scrambling in the waves, trying to swim to and grab hold onto whatever boat was nearest, upright or not.

The scene terrified Ven, and he froze with panic. He just gaped with inaction as he and Peony circled overhead on Kusu. 

Then, like a bolt of lightning, a memory resurfaced in his mind. Facing the Innusik Wood amid the swirling snow of a cold winter night, he sat upon the back of Tuktua, full of apprehension as she turned her head to look back at him and ask, “ _Are you ready, friend?_ ”

With that question, he remembered just like he had then, that he wasn’t alone. They, not just he, could save these outha. And with that stroke of clarity, he came back to the present and found himself pointing down toward the chaos below, shouting, “Down there, Kusu!”

Shaken by what had just happened, the ku’nuki hesitated at first, but was inspired by the confidence of the spirit’s command. He nodded. “Hoooold on!”

As they dove toward the scene, Peony, notwithstanding her scream, had also been spurred into action and was already forming a plan. “Land us on th’ upright boat, Kusu! Once w’re there, fly around an’ grab any oars you can find an’ bring ‘em to us and then to any outha with th’ free paws t’ use ‘em!”

Ven then heard and was distracted by a shrill cry. “Ezhi! EZHI!!” screamed another outha jill hysterically as she clung to the side of one capsized boat, stretching a paw out to the water.

A significant distance away, Ezhi, the youngest outha of the group and even younger than Peony, floundered in the icy water. It was clear from his coughing and thrashing that he could not swim, and he had nothing to hold onto. Before he could cry for help, his head and paws slipped below the surface. The spirit cried out in dismay as he watched the young one sink.

Peony had heard the spirit’s cry, but missed what he saw, continuing to lay out her ideas. “Th’ sooner we get the boats up, th’--wait, what’re you-- ** _VEN!!!_** ”

Ignoring the noticeable height above the water, without a word, the spirit had flung himself off of Kusu’s back, in the direction of where Ezhi had disappeared. The seemingly long fall forced the spirit to inhale deeply before he plunged into the water.

This close to the Sirmiq, the lake’s water was cold. Colder than it had been in the shallows the day he learned how to swim. Colder even, than the stream had been on that chilly autumn night. It was so cold, it hurt. And yet, Ven only clawed his way deeper into its depths, trying to reach Ezhi before he was too late.

Now panic had gripped Peony. “VEN!” she screamed as she saw his light disappear beneath the icy water. Despite being the better swimmer, she was too afraid to try to dive after him, remaining racked with indecision until Kusu alighted on the boat as she had originally directed.

Still rattled by the chaos, Kusu cried, “What happened, what dooo we dooo?”

With the window to dive after her friend having passed, the only thing Peony could think of was what she had already said. Spotting an oar separated some distance away from them, Peony jumped off of the ku’nuki onto the boat, but almost immediately slipped overboard, gasping with shock at the cold as she kept a grip on the boat, and then pointed toward the oar. Panic still in her voice, she shouted at Kusu, “Get us some oars, quick!” With a nod, the ku’nuki took off after it. In the meantime, the other outha, appearing to have been struck in the head by some of the frozen debris, sat on the boat in a daze.

“Hurrry! ‘Elp me push th’ boat!” she screamed. Too scared to wait until Kusu brought an oar, she began kicking her feet hard and rapidly to propel the watercraft toward the rest of the group, and toward where Ven had gone.

Soon, she and the other outha both had an oar, enabling her to climb out of the cold water and navigate their boat more quickly and effectively. Coming near one of the capsized boats, she dove into the water again and helped the three outha clinging to it to flip it back upright. As she frantically swam back to her boat, Kusu continued to search the water for oars, grasping them in his talons and bringing them to the others. Another pair of outha had managed to right their boat, and once they too had oars, they used them to pull a third one to safety. Once there were no more oars to collect, the ku’nuki came to the aid of the last pair of outha clinging to the last boat, using his talons to grasp one side.

As Kusu beat his wings as hard and rapidly as he could, Peony and the outha with her paddled as hard as they could toward where Ven had gone below. She shivered with cold, and with dread at the unthinkable. Her friend was still nowhere to be seen.

***

The water here was even more murky than in the shallows. To Ven, Ezhi was but a flailing shadow that would not get any closer, despite the spirit’s efforts. But like in several instances before, sheer determination, willpower and desperation combined in an attempt to compensate for amateur ability as the spirit clumsily, but doggedly plunged deeper still, occasionally swiping at the water in front of him in hopes of catching onto some part of the drowning outha. 

Finally, as he thought his legs were about to begin to leaden with fatigue, he caught onto Ezhi by one of his ears. Pulling the young one toward himself, he then wrapped an arm around Ezhi’’s middle and looked up. With his heart again throbbing in his chest and ears, the surface seemed so far away. He just had to fend off the want for breath but a little longer.

But, as he began his ascent, he had another problem: not only was fatigue making his motions sluggish, the frigid water had numbed his limbs. He could feel his hold around Ezhi slipping as his grip began to fail him. A burst of bubbles unwillingly escaped his mouth as he desperately struggled to hold onto the young outha. Weakly, he fought his way upward from the cold depths, now having to rely on sight to be sure that Ezhi was still in his arm, for the sensation had been lost. The more he looked upward, the more hazy the light coming from the surface became. He thought he was about to seize and deeply breathe in the freezing, cloudy water...

..when instead, the spirit gave a strangled gasp as he broke the surface, but almost immediately went under again. He had made it, and with a quick look at his arm, so had the outha with him. Struggling to stay on the water, he managed to bring Ezhi’s head above the surface. He heard the young one spew water, cough and then breathe. Ven then tried to cry for help, but it came out as garbled noise as his own head went under again and he both swallowed and inhaled a mouthful of water. Sapped of his strength and numbed to the core, the spirit’s limbs simply began to refuse to obey his impulses. Feebly reaching one more time as they both went under, Ven felt his free, outstretched hand begin to slip beneath with him again, and his world felt as though it began to slowly move away from him.

Then, he felt the distant tingle of a pair of paws clutching his hand, and he suddenly felt himself being lifted up. His mind in a deep haze, he was barely aware of himself and Ezhi choking on water, coughing and then finding deep breaths of air that felt like they both had been without for an eternity. “I’ve gotcha, Ven!” shouted a voice that was scared, muffled and distant, but also familiar. 

The world was all coming back now. The light of the sky above came to his vision, blinding and spinning. Sounds of coughing, crying and shouting filled his ears as the lake water drained from them. He found himself on his back, on one of the outha boats that rocked with the lingering waves. His whole body prickled as sensation came rushing back, and he trembled with pain and cold. 

It was too much for him to hold in. Amid his coughs and labored breathing, the spirit began to cry.

Even as he saw the frightened faces of both Peony and Kusu look down at him--the jill looking like she too could break down at any moment--the spirit’s hearing focused on the voice and cries of another. “‘M cold. I want m’ Mama,” sobbed the young voice.

Ven’s friends backed away as the spirit sat up. His brave dive, Peony’s quick thinking and Kusu’s support had all paid off. The spirit saw that the boats were now all upright, and they were all now at a safer distance from the Sirmiq, moving away toward the nearest shoreline. They looked battered, bruised, soaked and visibly upset, but miraculously, the entire group of outha was otherwise all accounted for.

His eyes then fell upon the source of the voice. Shivering and weeping, the young outha Ezhi was curled up on the boat in front of them. His thoughts then went back to that frigid winter, at a time where his friend Tuktua risked her life to defend him from a creature corrupted by the Blight. He remembered the relief he felt amid her comforting words:

“ _I’m all right. And thankfully, so are you, little child._ ”

Regaining his composure somewhat, he went and scooped up Ezhi in his trembling arms, and held him close, both to warm, and to comfort. He then spoke, hoping to convey that same comfort he felt that night. He simply said, “..You’re all right.”

Ezhi did not resist Ven pulling him into a hug, and just cried all the more at the spirit’s words.

Kusu looked as though he would cry also, but he said nothing. He only drew near the spirit, bringing his head to touch his in a similar expression of comfort. He remained silent, his faith in the spirit who chose him, vindicated.

Peony was again conflicted in her emotions. She wanted so badly to be livid at Ven for being so reckless, and feel like he owed her for pulling him out of the water. But, the bravery and results of his actions were undeniable. And once again, she was faced with a choice on what emotions to act upon, on what meant more to her.

Then, she witnessed the spirit’s tender care for Ezhi. And like a breaking sunrise driving away the night, all her anger and vanity were turned away. All that remained was overwhelming relief that her friend and her kind were safe. Moved to tears, she put her oar down and drew near, resting a paw gently on the spirit’s shoulder, and then grasping him tightly in a partial hug as she shook with emotion.

Feeling their touch, Ven looked up at them, and smiled amid his tears, happy to be not only safe, but among friends.

***

The rest of the trip to the shore was uneventful, but even before they reached the shore, Ven could see that recognition was dawning on the faces of the company of outha as they looked at him. Not wanting to be swarmed, as soon as the group made it to shore, Ven gave Ezhi one last comforting squeeze before he and Peony climbed up onto Kusu, and the three flew away. As they departed, Ven looked back, and spied the young one waving and smiling at him. The spirit then saw the jill who originally had been screaming his name, come rushing from one of the other boats to embrace him. 

The three were soon above the Innusik Wood again. Kusu, leveling himself out, set out toward the Spirit Pine like they had been journeying before. Still stunned by the day’s events, along with the swirl of strong emotions lingering therefrom, they traveled in silence for a good while.

Peony was the first to finally speak up, looking worried as both she and Ven pondered on the implications of what just happened. “..So now what d’we do?” Her eyes lowered, and she looked a little glum. “I’ll pr’bly get’n trouble no matter what..” Then, realizing that didn’t sound right, she added, “I mean, not that I r’gret what w’did..” She then gave a sad smile to Ven.

“..W’made a pretty good team.” She then gave the ku’nuki a pat. “You too, Kusu.”

Kusu hooted with satisfaction. “‘Course we did. We have a Spirit Guardian with us,” he said, as if that made the jill’s observation obvious. 

She sniffed, stifling a chuckle. “Yeah. W’do..”

Ven felt uneasy again at the subtle praise, and changed the subject as an idea came to him. He then pointed to the southeast, toward the Outhan Plains. He spoke carefully, wanting to properly enunciate. “Kusu. Go that way...Edge of trees.”

Kusu glanced behind him, and hooted in acknowledgement, banking accordingly. Peony looked puzzled at the spirit. “What’re ya thinkin’, Ven?” she asked.

The spirit then turned and pointed at her. “Peony. Home first. Say...playing with me.”

“What about th’ others? The outha’ll all know ‘bout what ‘appened…”

The spirit shook his head, gesturing to the three of them. “Faster.”

The jill hadn’t considered this, and understood what he meant, that by wing, she would reach home sooner than the others. She still wasn’t fully convinced however, and her expression showed this. “They’re still gonna find out..?”

Ven could not help but agree as he thought about it more. He could not think of any way to avoid word getting out of what happened. But he felt sure in his mind and heart that he--they--were where they needed to be. He clenched his free hand into a fist, bringing it to his chest. “..Be..proud. Did..right,” he said firmly.

Peony then looked a little sad, but did nod nonetheless. She couldn’t imagine any way she would escape some form of trouble, despite that she did feel as he did about the whole thing. Her concern then shifted to him. “..What ‘bout you? Won’t you be in trouble too?”

The spirit’s ears drooped a little. He shrugged, glancing aside and looking uncertain, but also uncaring. “Did..right,” he repeated.

“Yeah..” replied the jill wistfully. After a pause between them, she then admitted, “Y’know, this wasn’t at all what I had’n mind for t’day, right?” She even laughed a little. “We sh’d do something fun but safer, huh? Like fix up yer home?”

Ven looked back at her, and smiled widely, yapping enthusiastically at the idea.

***

After a time, as the spirit had asked, Kusu landed in the Innusik Wood at its southern edge. The spirit and ku’nuki both bid farewell to the young outha, and she made the last part of the journey to her home, so as to give the appearance of returning alone. From there, Ven and Kusu returned northward to the Spirit Pine. Both agreed on the way that they each ought to separate and return alone to their respective kin, like Peony. Both were confident they would meet again in the next day or so, with Peony too, and find something fun--and preferably less dangerous--that they could all do together.

Ven and Peony both turned out to be right. Word of the incident at the Sirmiq spread quickly among the outha, and soon reached the ears of the spirits as well as the ku’nuki. But as the story spread, so too did it change, and in time the incident came to be regarded with general skepticism. And rightly so, for what details seemed unknown, rumor and embellishment had eagerly filled in the gaps. 

The part of the story that created the most confusion was actually Peony. Many had come to believe that she was with the group of outha the whole time, while others (including the outha who were actually there) contended that she had arrived on the scene on a ku’nuki like Ven had. To many, seeing as how the outha were prey to the ku’nuki, the latter idea seemed absurd, and believed to be part of the rumors, notwithstanding that that part actually was the truth. The three had each refused to comment on the incident, preferring silence or avoiding the matter entirely, at least in Ven and Peony’s case, in hopes of avoiding possible trouble.

A couple of days later, Ven found himself again at the clearing where the Spirit Pine stood, receiving more instruction. Since the Ku’nuki had arrived in Nisik, the outha were much more sparse. He actually had not seen either Peony nor Kusu since the incident, and it worried him. Between being bored of the repeated instruction and wondering about the others, the spirit was having a hard time paying attention, becoming lost in thought.

He then heard familiar hoofsteps, along with an “Excuse me” from a familiar voice that interrupted the instruction. He turned and lit up with a smile as he saw Tuktua standing before him. She flashed him a brief smile before explaining to the older spirit instructing, “I need a moment with Ven, if you would.” 

The instructor obliged, motioning with a hand to the guh’nuu to carry on, resuming his instruction. Ven eagerly hopped up onto Tuktua’s back, excited to see her. It felt like it had been a long time since they had got to spend time together. “How are you, Ven?” she asked him as she walked away slowly from the group.

“I’m fine,” he replied with confidence in his speech, happier now that she was here.

“Learning a lot?” 

“Yeah!”

She chuckled. “I’m glad…” She then went silent. This seemed unusual to the spirit. They had not conversed at length for days, and because of this, he thought she would have much more to say. He then saw they were walking out of the clearing. Something seemed amiss.

As they ventured into the Innusik Wood, Ven started to worry again. “..What’s wrong?” he asked slowly.

The guh’nuu thought for a moment on how to answer. “Well,” she began, “you’ve made no small stir with your return, Ven. From the sound of things, you’re doing wonderfully, but..not all feel that way.”

Ven’s ears began to droop. He must be in some sort of trouble, but he did not know who with, or why. He then spotted a light ahead, another spirit between the trees as he and Tuktua came into a tiny break in the trees. He saw his friends Kusu and Peony there, and briefly smiled at them, happy to see them both.

Then, he saw that they looked sad, uncomfortable, or both. And behind Peony, an older jill, whom he recognized to be her mother, stood with her paws around his friend. The mother was conversing with the spirit, K’enah. Both K’enah and Peony’s mother had a stern countenance about them, and both focused on him as he arrived with Tuktua.

The guh’nuu turned her head to look his way and, with concern showing, whispered, “Just be truthful, Ven.” 

“Ah,” said K’enah. “You’ve arrived, Ven. We were just talking about the other day.”

Ven quietly dismounted from Tuktua. There was something about the way the keshka spoke that bothered him. An awkward tension seemed to hang in the air. It was no wonder Kusu and Peony looked the way they did.

His gaze not leaving Ven, K’enah gestured toward Kusu and asked, “Is this the ku’nuki who let you choose him?”

Ven’s eyes darted to Kusu for a moment. He knew it was his friend, but the keshka’s question felt leading. He slowly nodded, adding a soft “Yes”.

The keshka nodded, and continued. “You rode with him, then. Did you ride him alone?”

Ven hesitated, feeling trapped. He knew the truth would undoubtedly mean trouble for Peony, and thus it was tempting to lie to try to protect her as well as affirm his loyalty to his friend. But was that what she would want him to do? And even if it was, would it not just make things worse, if he was found out?

He stole a glance at Peony, hoping maybe there was an answer in her face. She made no indication either way, only looking uncomfortable, even a little scared.

The young spirit’s ears seemed to flop completely, and he quietly answered, “No,” barely shaking his head.

K’enah’s brow lifted, and he gestured toward Peony. “She rode with you?”

Ven hesitated again, before answering, “...Yeah.”

“..By the Light,” said Peony’s mother, making a sound as if she would faint, her paws tightening around her daughter. Seeing her reaction, Ven’s ears perked as he then hastily added, “I asked. Asked her to come.” Perhaps, he could take the blame away from her by claiming responsibility. 

But the keshka did not look appeased. Instead, his eyes narrowed. “You _put her in danger_.”

Ven was stunned at this accusation. “..Huh?”

“Perhaps you did not know this, Ven,” explained K’enah, his accusing tone remaining. “But there are few more dangerous creatures to an outha, than a ku’nuki. It’s no accident that far less outha gather at the Spirit Pine once the Ku’nuki arrive in Nisik. They do not come, out of fear. Any outha who does risks becoming another meal to a ku’nuki.”

Kusu hooted, but he sounded incensed, his feathers rufflling as he seemed to glare at the keshka. “She is a friend, not fooood!” he exclaimed.

“As for you, hatchling,” said K’enah, returning the glare. “Another spirit--one older and ready--will be appointed to choose you.”

“W-what??” stammered Ven, aghast. “Tha’s not fair!!” exclaimed Peony, her mother having to actually restrain her a little.

Kusu was indeed far, far younger than the keshka, but he was about equal in height. His feathers only flared the more at this suggestion. He spoke very seriously, yet levelly, stating simply, “My wings are not yours toooo give.”

Ven, Peony and her mother all gaped at this, though for different reasons. The ku’nuki’s young friends were astonished at his defiance, and also at the simple, yet profound nature in his response. He had come off to them both as the most naive of them, but every now and then he would say something that suggested he was much wiser than he let on. This was one of those instances.

Now it was Peony’s mother who was indignant. “You do _not_ speak to--”

“Laurel,” interrupted Tuktua with the name of the outha mother. Clearing her throat and stepping between Kusu and K’enah, the guh’nuu continued before either Laurel or K’enah could. “K’enah, if Kusu sees Peony as a friend,” she offered coolly, ”then she was never in danger.”

“...Perhaps not from him,” responded K’enah after some thought. Kusu’s counter made him appear angry, but his tone remained the same, possibly even calmer than before. “Flying on a ku’nuki is dangerous in and of itself. A stray crosswind in a moment of carelessness could mean death for any rider.” His gaze then strayed to Peony but then rested on Ven. “Not to mention the danger you three charged headlong into at the Sirmiq.” His tone and countenance then seemed to lessen to that of concern. “You are brave, Ven, but you are reckless. You have endangered her as well as yourself. You would do well not to risk your life and others so senselessly.”

Ven was again stunned. Peony could not believe what she was hearing. She wrenched herself free of her mother Laurel’s grip, and stormed forward toward the keshka, putting herself between him and Ven. She bristled with an anger that buried any anxiety she once had in his presence. 

“Are. You. _Crazy_??” She had that hiss to her voice that she had once used against Ven, to whom she gestured. “‘F we weren’t there—if _Ven_ wasn’ there—Ezhi would be at th’ bottom ‘f Kinu Lake right now! Maybe _more_!! That means _nothing_ t’you!?”

“ _Peony_!” exclaimed both Tuktua and Laurel with reprimand. Her mother, however, was noticeably louder than the guh’nuu, and moved herself between K’enah and her daughter, facing her and looking clearly upset. “That’s enough!”

But the young jill was not deterred by her mother’s rebuke. She hopped furiously in place, both paws clenched in fists, shouting past her mother, “What would yer Tree say, huh? That all thos’ outha shoulda jus’ _drowned_ , too??”

“All right, that’s it!” Laurel exclaimed hotly. She advanced, using her larger size to nudge and shuffle her daughter away. “We’re done here, I’m taking you home.” Then, her own temper flared, getting the better of her as she raised her voice, unexpectedly pointing a finger behind her at Ven. “And I don’t want to see you or hear word of you being near _him_ again! Been nothing but trouble for you ever since he arrived!!”

Ven was horrified and speechless at the sudden contempt directed his way. Even Tuktua was taken aback. Peony was horrified too, but not speechless. “Wha?? No!!” she cried, looking at Ven for a moment as she again became afraid. “That isn’ fair Mama, ‘e did nothin’ wrong!!”

But her mother did not relent as they withdrew from the small gathering. “I. Don’t. Care,” she hissed back through gritted teeth. “You were in great danger because of _him_! The spirits have a perilous charge, Peony, and your ‘friend’ has already proven that more than once! I can’t, I _won’t_ have you risking your hide, being with him. If your A’ta were here, he’d--”

The mention of “A’ta”, a title and term of endearment in Nisik for one’s father, struck another nerve in the young jill. She stopped, resisting her mother’s prodding, practically pushing her away as she glared and shook with her paws both in fists again. “A’ta isn’ here, Mama!! He’s _gone_! An’ he didn’ have a spirit there t’help him!” She then fell apart, her words reducing to a blubbering wail. “At leas’ _I_ w-would, b-but you ww-wanna take that away!!” 

Tears had welled up and flowed fast from the young jill’s eyes. She then glanced at Ven and the others, and now just felt awfully embarrassed to be seen crying in front of them all. Sobbing, she abruptly took off into the trees as fast as she could.

Grieved by the words and crying of her daughter, the older jill stood there, stung with regret. Without even looking back at the others, she cried as she took off after her. “Peony, wait! Peony, come back!!”

As the pair of outha disappeared from the scene, Ven reached after his friend. “P’nee,” he whimpered, tears welling in his own eyes. He looked back at K’enah, Tuktua and Kusu and just hung his head and put his face in his hands, his shoulders twitching together as he began to quietly weep also. 

Tuktua frowned, looking genuinely sad and softly shaking her head and closing her eyes. Surprisingly, K’enah had remained calm as this drama unfolded, even at Peony’s own accusations. He looked to Tuktua and said quietly, “I think we’re done here, too. Tuktua, if you would take him home..?”

Fighting to keep hold of her own emotions and feeling a little responsible for the sorrow inflicted on Ven and his friends, the guh’nuu felt she owed it to them to salvage something from this meeting. “K’enah,” she replied, “Ven has applied his learning with impressive results. If anything, his actions at the Sirmiq show he has a basic understanding of ku’nuki riding already. If it’s dangerous as you say, then let him be taught it with the older spirits, with the ku’nuki who is already loyal.”

As the keshka pondered her words, the guh’nuu brought her head down next to Ven, giving the young spirit a comforting nuzzle before looking to K’enah again. She hesitated before then voicing a rather piercing question.

“The Spirit Pine trusts him; why won’t you?”

The keshka looked at Kusu, who looked hurt and had stood there in awkward silence ever since he last spoke. K’enah then looked to Ven, and groaned a sigh. He waved a hand dismissively as he said, “Very well.” He then looked to both Ven and Kusu and said, “You will begin in two days.”

Ven looked up, surprise on his tearstained face as he looked between the keshka and Kusu. The ku’nuki perked and hooted happily, bouncing forward to the young spirit. He then spread his wings and wrapped Ven in a hug, in hopes of comforting him.

Wordlessly, K’enah nodded to Tuktua, and then took his leave, walking toward the Spirit Pine, leaving only Ven and his other two friends in this small break in the trees. The young spirit wanted to be happy. He was grateful for Tuktua’s intervention, but he did not feel like he could be comforted, despite the good intentions of both Tuktua and Kusu. 

Someone was missing. A wound had been left upon his heart, a wound that still festered with Laurel’s sudden vitriol. A wound that ached even more than K’enah’s censure had.

Just like his outha friend had said, it wasn’t fair. He knew he had done right at the Sirmiq that day, and he would do it again if he had the choice. Why couldn’t K’enah or Laurel see that? Why did saving Ezhi and the other outha mean little in their eyes? 

He sniffled against the silky white feathers on Kusu’s chest before he looked up at Tuktua. “P’nee?” he asked, a mournful expression on his face that seemed to beg for Laurel to recant her punishment on her daughter, or for Tuktua to somehow convince her to do the same.

But Tuktua knew Laurel, and her obstinance, especially when it came to the safety of her daughter. The guh’nuu’s voice trembled as she shook her head, almost unable to bear looking Ven in the eyes. 

“I don’t know, Ven…..I don’t know.”


	7. The Balance Disturbed

Thick clouds moved in later that evening, bringing a steady rain with them. By morning, they still lingered, continuing to shower the land. It had made the day cool, and only added to the gloom that had settled over Ven and his tree home.

For the first time, he had chosen to not go to the Spirit Pine for instruction that day, instead staying inside. Being out in the rain trying to receive instruction did not sound appealing in the least. On top of that, his mind had become so preoccupied with the events of yesterday that it was hard for him to imagine taking the instruction seriously, whether out of inattention, or even apathy. And so he stayed, straying out only occasionally to find food or water.

The spirit simply could not understand. His conviction about the right in his and his friends’ actions had not left him. Were they not worth the wrong, real or perceived? And had he and his friends not been there, surely what would have resulted would have made them (or at least him) wish they had.

His thoughts then went to his friend Peony. He could still see her tearful visage in his mind’s eye. It had not ceased to move him, and not just because of the punishment her mother Laurel had dealt her. The revelation about her A’ta and his untimely fate only made him feel more sorry for her.

And he couldn’t help but wonder: did she blame him for this? He had followed Tuktua’s counsel to be truthful, but was that what the jill wanted? Tuktua’s uncertain reply at the end of yesterday’s meeting left ample room for doubt on whether he would ever know the answer.

…No. He would not let that question remain unanswered. He suddenly sat up in his bed, having been laying there all morning, lost in thought. He had to find that much out at least. If he and Peony’s friendship was over, at least let it be over on good terms. He would find out, even if it meant having to journey to the Outhan Plains to find her, even if it meant bringing down more of her mother’s wrath upon him by doing so.

His mind set on that, he stood up, stretching to dull the aches from laying there for so long. He looked around the room, and out the window above at the continuing drizzle, his thoughts wandering again. He thought about Peony’s idea of making improvements to his home. It sounded like it would be a lot of fun, but had no idea on how to go about it on his own. And it felt unfun and unfair to even try without the others, Peony especially, since he imagined she would have much better ideas than he. And Kusu, he was sure the ku’nuki with his wings would be a great help, too.

Then he thought about the owlet, and wondered if he was in any trouble with his own family. Even if he wasn’t, K’enah seemed to barely tolerate their companionship, and even then, only thanks to Tuktua’s intervention. Even in just that one day together, there was a bond the young spirit had gained and felt with the owlet. And he knew that Kusu felt it too, even if the spirit didn’t know why.

His thoughts then echoed Peony’s angry words at K’enah. Did that bond mean nothing to the keshka?

He then tensed in frustration at the whole predicament, and in that moment searched for something to take it out on. He soon found the old broom and the frayed bag, and walked up and vented an angry bark as he dealt each a swift kick. The broom clattered loudly on the floor, but the bag broke apart, strewing its contents about.

The spirit then stopped, as he saw something glint in the dim light, bouncing on the floor. His anger then fled as curiosity took its place, and he went and stooped to pick up the strange object.

In his hand was a small, translucent crystal shard, with a smoothness to it that did not seem wholly natural. Yet, despite not seeming like its shape was completely natural, there were no cracks or other flaws to it. It had a dim, light blue glow to it, and it seemed to slowly brighten at his own light as it rested in his hand. It was pretty, beautiful even, though he had no idea what it was. 

He stared at it with fascination as its own light grew as he continued to hold it. It was no surprise that he had overlooked it until now. With him having been busy with instruction, he had really only come here to sleep. But, remembering seeing Peony taking some of the empty glowing cones at the Spirit Pine, he wondered with it having been in the same bag as the stone used to open the door to his home, how could she have missed it? 

His inner speculation was cut short as a distant, muffled voice reached his ears above the drizzle. Not sure if he was just hearing things, his ears lifted as he strained to listen. He heard it again, and quickly went to the door, and opened it. As he peered out and below, a friend stood on the forest floor below, looking up at him.

“There you are,” shouted Tuktua, smiling at him, though it grew to be more of a sad one. “Can we talk, friend?” she asked, hopeful.

Ven returned the sad smile, and nodded, hurrying inside to retrieve the stone for securing the door, which he had left by his bed. He left the crystal shard in its place; that could wait. He then re-emerged from his home, and went through the usual routine of ensuring the door was closed, jumping down, and then hiding the stone. After he finished, he saw that the guh’nuu eyed him with concern.

“K’enah said he had not seen you at the Spirit Pine for instruction this morning,” she stated simply.

Ven’s ears began to flop at this, and he frowned, his eyes going to the ground. Is that why she had come, so he could be scolded by her too?

He then heard her heave a sad sigh. As he looked up, he saw her shaking her head in discouragement. “I don’t blame you, Ven. Not at all. K’enah, he..” She trailed off, and heaved another sigh, and then motioned with her head to her back, as if prompting him to hop up. “Can we talk as we go?” she asked, appealing to nostalgia. “..Just like in the winter?”

With a whine borne of melancholy more than nostalgia, Ven nodded, and obliged. As he settled himself on the guh’nuu’s back, she began walking westward.

“..I am sorry about what happened yesterday, Ven,” she began. “I truly am. I had thought that by bringing you three together, we could put the rumors to rest and just have the truth on what happened at the Sirmiq. I would have reconsidered, had I..” She shook her head again, still in shock over the heated exchange. “..had I known you would be ambushed like that. And your friends too.”

Astonishment then creeped into her voice. “..And it seems, the truth was more surprising than the rumors! Peony is one brave little jill to be so near a ku’nuki, let alone ride one.”

At this, Ven felt he had to clarify on that. “Kusu. Let her choose him too.”

“Ah, right, I’d briefly forgotten his name. He seems like a..” She then stopped in her steps. Not a stranger to the ritual the spirit was referring to, she looked back at him, dumbfounded. “..wait, he _what_?”

Ven reached forward with a hand, as if reenacting his touch to Kusu’s head. He spoke slowly, his developing speech inadvertently adding emphasis. “He let her choose him, too.”

The guh’nuu blinked and gaped in amazement. “..By the seasons,” she said in soft exclamation, shaking her head in surprise as she resumed her step. “That is...extraordinary, Ven. You are very fortunate to have found companionship in him. Not to mention, an outha friend who has accepted his. A rather unlikely trio, you three.”

Then, thoughtfully, she added, “..a trio that was in the right place at the right time.”

The spirit’s ears perked at this, and he gave a surprised whine. She felt as he did about it?

“You were reckless as K’enah said, Ven,” conceded the guh’nuu, “but while he may be afraid to admit it, I think he would have done the same as you, were he in your place. Thanks to you, Peony and Kusu, no lives were lost that day.”

She then heaved another sigh as she carefully wended her way among the trees, shaking droplets from her head as the drizzle continued. “I just wish that was what he cared about..”

Ven’s ears drooped again. “Why..doesn’t he?” asked the spirit, as if he wasn’t quite sure he spoke properly.

In passing, the guh’nuu observed, “I must say, it feels good to be able to have an actual conversation with you. Your speech is coming along nicely.” She then returned to the earlier subject, as well as her more serious tone. “Deep down, I think he does, Ven. But, K’enah has been the keshka for quite some time. He is only the third to be appointed since the Spirit Pine first graced this land. As such, he has lost many a kin over the seasons. Most of them, lost to the Blight, but no small number to the harsh winters of Nisik and, yes, even some to tragic accidents.”

There was a pause in the guh’nuu’s words, though her walk had not ceased. It allowed for the sobering words to sink into the spirit’s mind. “...Each of those deaths is a burden upon his conscience. He acknowledges your strength and bravery, Ven, but in turn, I think it would devastate him to lose one as promising as you, on his watch. He will probably never confide that to you, but in my conversations with him, those are the unspoken words that I hear.”

Ven pondered on this. Tuktua’s words did provide some perspective, but still. He thought the keshka would be at least grateful for what he and his friends had accomplished together, not try to rob them of their friendship. Just like Peony said--and he heard her say it again in his mind--it wasn’t fair.

“And Laurel,” the guh’nuu breathed, shaking her head and sounding as though she was still reeling from the mother jill’s venomous outburst. “I have known her nearly all her life, and while she is protective of her daughter, I have _never_ seen her talk like that about anyone.” She looked back at the spirit, looking apologetic. “You did not deserve that, Ven.”

Ven felt his heart ache and his throat close a little as the mother jill’s cutting words echoed again in his mind, and at the notion that she would see her punishment through. With tears threatening again, he asked, “..Can you...talk..to her?”

“I have not yet, Ven,” admitted the guh’nuu. “But I fully intend to.” She began to sound a little annoyed, herself. “I actually agree with Peony, it’s not fair to her, or any of you really. Against all our ingrained beliefs and instincts to the contrary, Kusu has made clear he is no threat to Peony. And amid her tears, she also made a keen observation, which I firmly believe and agree with: she may well be safer when _with_ you, certainly more than she would be alone.”

The guh’nuu’s valid points were some encouragement to Ven, and it gave him some faith that Tuktua could persuade Laurel to relent. Still, there was something else Peony had said that troubled him. “Who is..” He hesitated with the word in his effort to say it correctly. “..A’ta?”

“Laurel’s mate, and Peony’s father,” came the reply rather promptly from Tuktua. There was a pause. She looked back at him, and noted the mystified look on Ven’s face. “I see she has not told you,” she said as heaved another sigh, before she unfolded the tale.

“Peony was born in the past winter, not long after you cleansed the Spirit Pine and went to sleep. Outha jills often give birth in multiples, but Peony came alone, and was Laurel’s only daughter thus far. Peony’s A’ta was among the leaders of the outha, and was one of their best crafters. Then, one winter day, he ventured out alone to forage for food and materials. It was a normal, routine thing for him to do, but…” She shook her head. “..That day, he never returned. Nor was his body ever found. The belief is that he was caught by a kazhna or tekaen. With him gone, her family has since fallen out of standing among their kind. Peony barely remembers him. She just remembers that he loved her, her mother, and the family. And she remembers the day he left.”

She looked back at the spirit, who looked moved with sympathy. “Perhaps you’ve seen the small knife Peony carries with her?” 

“Yeah,” replied Ven wistfully. 

The guh’nuu nodded before she looked forward again. “That was her A’ta’s. Sometimes I’ve heard her say that he never came back because he forgot to take it with him that day. And then vowing that she will never make that same mistake. And so she keeps it. She makes good use of it, and I imagine that one day she’ll be even better than her A’ta was at crafting. Perhaps that’s how she tries to remember him, with her own crafting. Or, she keeps the knife because it’s all she has left of him. ...I don’t know which.”

She glanced behind her at the spirit again, looking as though she shared Ven’s sympathy. “She has but acquaintances among her kind, not friends. It would be a terrible thing to deprive her of a friend.” Then, recalling their own friendship, her voice became laced with emotion. “Certainly of a friend like you, Ven. And Kusu, too. Even though I caught only a glimpse of it, I could see you three had something..special, there. It almost reminded me of--”

She then stopped, and sniffed the air, her nostrils flaring. The spirit felt the guh’nuu’s hackles stand on end. She suddenly looked nervous, and started looking about them quickly.

Ven looked at her in confusion. “What is it?”

Then he made a face as he smelled it, too. An awful, stomach-wrenching smell, like that of something...rotting.

“Be on your guard, Ven,” said Tuktua in a low but urgent whisper. “We are likely near a kill. Whatever the predator is, they might still be nearby.”

The spirit let one of his hands drop to his side, slowly clenching it into a fist, ready to summon the Light to aid him with merely a thought.

The guh’nuu’s nostrils continued to flare as she sniffed the air, moving faster in her stride to the west, and much more on the alert. Soon, they arrived at the stream that flowed from Kinu Lake.

There, on the other side of the side of the stream, alone, lay a dead guh’nuu. Both Tuktua and Ven gasped at the sight and, seeing there were no animals feeding on the body, Tuktua broke into a near full gallop, crashing through the stream to reach it. As soon as she drew near, she suddenly drew back, distancing herself from the corpse. With emotion and dismay she cried, “It’s blighted!”

Ven was rattled from the guh’nuu’s sudden movements, and had become queasy from the smell that was now significantly stronger than before. From a distance, he could see what Tuktua meant. The dead guh’nuu had a deep laceration the ran under much of it’s underbelly, and a significant chunk was literally missing from its back, with the spine partly exposed. But, the back wound looked more like a huge, clean slice than a powerful bite. And where the flesh was exposed, it had begun to wither with a sickly purple color that he recognized just like Tuktua had. He also noticed there was a blood trail leading from the trees to the west. 

That led him to observe out loud. “Not..not attacked here. Only died here,” he said.

Tuktua had not initially spotted the blood trail like Ven had, but she did before she thought to ask how he knew. “Very good, Ven,” she said, though her tone was more troubled than it was commending. She then gave a disheartened sigh as she observed, “And it’s a female.” She shook her head, staring at the extent of the injuries the creature sustained before ultimately succumbing to them. 

“The Blight did not find this one after she died,” she said, no doubt in her voice. “Her attacker was corrupted.”

Ven dismounted, sickened both emotionally and physically as he continued to survey the body from a distance. He then looked up at her words, puzzled. “How..how know?”

“She’s hardly been eaten from, Ven,” replied Tuktua, shuddering. “Had this been a natural attacker like a tekaen, this one would be much more eaten than it is. Do you remember your instruction about the Blight? Creatures who come under its corruption can and do kill to eat, but they often kill senselessly as well.” She then grew more fearful, sounding even frantic as she looked to the nearby stream. “And this one could poison the water. Ven.” She then looked the spirit straight in the eyes. “Can you cleanse this body?”

The spirit was caught off guard at this request. What she was asking, he had only done once before, and that time, he did not know how he did it, only that he did it.

“I...I’ll try,” he said with a confidence that clearly wavered. The guh’nuu nodded, offering some encouragement. “You can do it, Ven. Just remember what you’ve been taught about summoning the Light, and focus your will. You’ll…” She tried (and failed) to hide her fear. “..you’ll have to touch it, though.”

Ven knew this already from the one time he had done it, but it did not keep him from feeling her anxiety. As he slowly drew near, he tried to breathe deep to clear his mind, but coughed as his lungs forcefully rejected the increasing stench of the rot. Amid the wrenching and seizing of his stomach and chest, he tried as hard as he could to ignore the smell and the gore as he reached forth.

He remembered how Tuktua had once told him how spirits such as he were affected more deeply by such loss of life, and he truly felt that now. Without even touching the dead beast, he could feel that spark of life he had sensed in other living things was gone from this one, and it pained him deeply.

Rent with sorrow for the loss of this creature, the spirit closed his eyes and riveted his thoughts upon that loss as his hand touched the side of the dead guh’nuu. Almost instantly, the body shone as it became engulfed in a blue glow. The glow then increased, and then bloomed like a flame. Then, gradually, the remains crumbled away until nothing was left but bluish embers that began to fade without scorching the ground.

Upon finishing, Ven’s hand dropped, and then both his hands went to his thighs as he bent down, breathing heavily from the exertion. His lungs again rejecting the heavy smell of death that had not left the scene, his breathing then changed to heaving, until he couldn’t hold it back any longer.

Tuktua had stood back, watching the scene from a safer distance as the body began to burn away. This time as well as many times before, the guh’nuu always felt some strange mix of both sorrow and awe at this cleansing ritual whenever the spirits performed it. She too was pained by the loss as Ven was, but there was comfort in a feeling that came every time she witnessed such an event:

That they who had died were free of the Blight, and knew peace.

She remained silent at that sobering, recurring insight until Ven began to retch, cough and spit upon the ground, at which she shuddered and averted her gaze. She looked back when it sounded as though he had finished, and saw he was moving slowly, almost stumbling toward the stream.

Kneeling at the bank, the spirit reached with trembling hands to scoop up some of the water. He stared at it for a time, as if to examine it, though he was struggling to keep it cupped in his hands amid all the shaking. He had been taught in his instruction that if it was uncertain whether the water was safe to drink, a spirit was the best candidate to test it, for their natural resilience against the Blight made any negative effects of corrupted water only temporary, when drunk in small amounts. After sniffing it and deciding it appeared safe, he sipped from his hands slowly.

Tuktua came to his side. “Well done, Ven,” she commended softly, then looking to the water in his hands. “..Is it safe?”

The spirit paused as he waited amid deep, shaky breaths. He then looked up at her and, whimpering, gave a hasty nod.

In that moment, the guh’nuu’s heart twinged at what she saw. The spirit’s face was flush, and even amid the rain, she could see that tears borne of both sorrow and exertion had flowed unrestrained from both of his eyes, and he still trembled. It was clear that the cleansing, along with his vomiting, had both figuratively and quite literally taken a lot out of him. He then continued to sip the water, which was proving to be a labored effort on his part.

It took the guh’nuu a moment to speak around the welling lump in her throat. “Will _you_ be all right?”

Still struggling to remain steady, the spirit breathed, “Yeah..” between sips.

The guh’nuu bit her lip hard to keep her own emotion in check, hesitating with her words. “Ven, I…” She looked westward before looking to him again. “...the Nuu’aniruk Rise is just west of here. The guh’nuu herd gathers there to give birth to their calves. There...there may be more dead there, or at least we might be able to find clues about who or what did this. With your help, we can cleanse any dead before more fall to the Blight’s corruption. I know you’re weakened, but..”

She trailed off as the spirit slowly stood, feeling awful at asking more of him in his wearied state. Yet, there was no trace of annoyance or unwillingness showing in the spirit’s face as he made his way to her side, and slowly climbed up onto her back. She burst into tears as she felt him struggle to get atop of her. “‘M ready,” she heard him say tiredly after he had settled himself.

The guh’nuu sniffed long and loud, barely managing to breathe a “thank you” before she took off westward, trying to gallop as hard as she could to distract herself from her emotions. 

***

The two traveled fast, and Ven had to hold onto Tuktua’s mane tightly to remain steady on her back with her speed. He was able to manage, notwithstanding his fatigue. The trees and ferns of the Innusik Wood became a blur. He had heard mention of their destination in his instruction before, though not by name. Something about rolling hills, whatever that meant. He wanted to feel excited at the prospect of seeing this new place for the first time, but the seriousness of their task made that difficult. 

He tensed with trepidation, afraid of what they were going to find.

And then before he knew it, the trees were behind him, and they were in an open, grassy field. It was empty, with a small, rocky ridge just ahead of them. Here, the rain was more scattered, and the clouds seemed lower, enfolding the top of the ridge ahead in a mist that flowed over it amid a steady breeze. 

The spirit had thought that maybe the absence of dead guh’nuu was good news, but the fact that Tuktua had not quit her gallop told him she was not convinced yet.

He felt a wet chill as they ascended into the mist, and to the dismay of them both, that awful smell wafted in their nostrils again as they crested the ridge. The mist had not passed yet, however, and so they could not see below on the other side. Tuktua had come to a stop on top of the ridge, breathing heavily for a time. “..Wait here, Ven,” she then managed between breaths. “I’m going to scout out below, see how many there are. If you feel well enough, have some grass to eat. I fear you’re going to need the energy.”

Ven gave a sad whine, but nodded. “All right,” he said as he climbed off her, settling himself amid the grassy rocks. He couldn’t help but look with worry at her, though.

“I shouldn’t be long, or far. Just shout if you need help,” she said anxiously. She then turned and disappeared into the mist as she went down the other side of the ridge. 

The silence that reigned after her departure made Ven nervous. After all, Tuktua had said that a predator could still be nearby. And if they were corrupted by the blight, then surely they were a danger to him, also. Pulling a few handfuls of grass, the spirit moved more into the rocks along the ridge, hoping they might hide him better. After settling there, he waited, slowly nibbling away at the grass. He felt a little better as he ate, but this was tempered by a fear that only grew the longer he waited for Tuktua to return. He strained to listen for anything in the silence, only picking up the occasional breeze. 

After what at least felt like a long time, the sudden noise of the trot of hooves made him bolt upright, the Light whipping forth from his hand almost instantly as he readied himself.

To the relief of them both, it was Tuktua who approached in the mist, but she looked stricken with grief. 

“There are four,” she said amid her heavy breaths. She began to choke with emotion again. “All of them blighted, with wounds much like the first. And _all_ female.”

Ven had regained some of his strength, but he almost could not speak out of sorrow for his friend and for those lost as he hurried to her side and quickly climbed onto her back. Only thinking of what he could do to comfort his friend, he said firmly through his emotions, “Take me there.”

Needing no second bidding, the guh’nuu hurried down the ridge. They were soon out of the mist, and while it was cloudy, the spirit could see clearly enough in the field before him. He too saw the four guh’nuu bodies, sparsely spread out. Tuktua then brought him within a safe distance from the nearest one. Barely keeping her composure, she said, “I’m going to keep searching. The next ridge is the tallest in the area and, provided there’s not too much mist, it should give us a good view of the surrounding area. Then we can go find the herd and find out what happened.”

Ven nodded, yapping in acknowledgement as he hopped down again. Their eyes met again for a moment as she again said, “Just give a shout if you need help.”

As Tuktua departed again, Ven looked away from this corpse, took a deep breath and held it. At least this way, he thought, the threat of vomiting again from the stench would not be as great if he wasn’t breathing it in as much. His chest puffed out, he drew near the body, feeling that rush of sad emotions grip his mind and heart again, and focused his thoughts on that and on summoning the light as he touched the body. 

Like with the first body, this one glowed, then appeared to burn, and then crumbled away to nothing. When it had ended, he exhaled loudly, trying his best to breathe shallow until the smell had become bearable again. Once he saw the Blight there was cleansed, he moved on to the next body. He repeated this same process for the other three, but each cleansing ritual took more effort than the previous as he felt increasingly weaker each time. By the time he had cleansed the final one, he felt exhausted, but at least he had managed to keep down what he had eaten this time.

As the blue embers of the last body faded and blew away on the breeze, the sadness did not leave him, though he did feel a strong sense of relief.

..but for barely a moment. All four of his ears stood up, and his rainsoaked fur stood on end at the sound of a long, mournful bellow, coming from the next ridge Tuktua had mentioned. Immediately thinking his friend was in danger, the spirit surged with adrenaline as he sprinted toward the sound.

“Tuktua!” he cried as he began ascending the ridge. But between the incline and the effort to cleanse the bodies, even the adrenaline failed, and his strength waned quickly. “‘M coming!” he shouted, gasping for breath as his sprint reduced to a clamber on all fours.

Fear made knots of his insides as he heard his friend wail with anguish. He didn’t want to know how many dead he would find on the other side of this ridge.

As he stumbled his way to the top, he found his friend on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably. When he reached her, he collapsed against her side, breathing so hard that it began to hurt. She did not appear to be wounded, but that brought little comfort to the spirit, seeing her friend like this.

“I sh-should have kn-known,” she lamented. “I should have r-realized…”

The guh’nuu then bellowed again out of utter despair. As her cry filled his ears, the spirit’s hands gripped her side tightly in a sort of hug, and his face contorted as her unimaginable grief became his own, his heart feeling as though it would break in two. The spirit then looked out over the fields ahead of them, toward the source of her anguish. The hills were a deep, healthy green thanks to the grass, separated by large green fields. Some of the tops were lined with rocks. It would have looked like a peaceful place.

But that was what was so baffling to the spirit: the fields were empty. There was not a single guh’nuu--dead or alive--to be seen anywhere. Then, why….?

“Tuktua, where--”

“They’re _gone_ , Ven!” she cried hoarsely. “It’s mid-summer, they should be _everywhere_ here right now, but they’re _gone!!_ ”

He still did not understand. So many guh’nuu, he thought, could not just simply vanish from this place. Unless..

He looked back the way they had come. “They..left?”

Amid her sobs, the guh’nuu managed a nod, calming down enough to explain. “We were coming so quickly, I never stopped to see it in the grass. The rain must have masked the sound of their movement. Whatever killed those guh’nuu must have terrified the herd, for them to just leave. They don’t normally leave Nisik until mid-autumn.”

Ven still didn’t quite follow. He thought that finding less dead would have been a good thing. “But..they will survive?”

His friend began to stand again, trying hard to not be frustrated with him. “Ven, what have you been taught about the balance of this land?”

The spirit’s thoughts went back to his instruction. He could only recall the balance being mentioned, but did not grasp what it meant in practice. “..That..that there is one?”

“Who depends on the guh’nuu for food, Ven?”

“The..the tekaen?”

“And what will happen with the herd gone? What will the tekaen turn to instead?”

The spirit felt a chill as he began to realize what Tuktua was getting at. Seeing that on his face, she continued. “The herd will survive yes, but not without suffering first, Ven. And not only they and the tekaen will feel the consequences of what the Blight has set in motion here. Nisik will feel it.”

She began to get emotional again. “ _My_ home. _Your_ home. Peony’s home.” 

The mention of his outha friend filled Ven with fear for her safety. “W..we need to warn them! Warn outha of tekaen!” He suddenly went to Tuktua’s side and jumped up to climb up on her..but he didn’t make it. He had caught hold on her side and begun to try to pull himself up onto her back, when his strength failed him midway, and he fell to the ground, whining with pain from the impact. The cleansing of the bodies, his uphill sprint and the adrenaline withdrawal had all left him completely drained. And yet, he got up and tried again, his next attempt even more feeble than the first before he lost his grip. He did land on his hooves on the ground, but his legs buckled immediately, and he fell down and just lay there, breathing heavy from all the strain.

“Ven, stop,” said Tuktua, moved again at his struggle. “You’ve done enough for today, I..I should take you home.”

He coughed loudly and then exclaimed, “No!” He then managed to sit up, and then brought himself on all fours. “Have to..warn..help them,” he said between breaths, and attempted to stand. He stood for a moment, but then teetered in his balance before Tuktua caught him with her head. “Climb me the old way,” she said. She seemed reluctant, but it also felt unfair to not grant his request after he honored hers. “..I’ll take you to the Outhan Plains, but you have _got_ to hold on. Maybe you will regain some strength on the way.”

The spirit nodded, using Tuktua’s antlers for support to slowly make his way to his usual spot at the base of the back of her neck. He clung as tight as he could, but she could feel it was not that strong a grip. “Just stay with me, Ven. Stay with me,” she pleaded, clearly worried for him as she took off down the ridge, going east toward the Innusik Wood.

As they went, it almost felt like the winter all over again as he journeyed with Tuktua toward the Spirit Pine for the first time. At that time, he was hungry, weak and struggling to fend off sleep while she did whatever she could to keep him from falling asleep, for at that time, she feared that he would not wake again if he went to sleep. Neither of them knew whether that danger threatened this time, but neither wanted to find out.

His eyes drifted to the ground, the grass rushing past in a mesmerizing blur. He shook himself multiple times to stay conscious, but no matter how much he did it, even with the rain and wind in his face, he still felt his eyes drift off focus of their own accord.

The blur of grass soon became a blur of trees and ferns again, but now the spirit could swear his surroundings were starting to grow dark, and his eyelids too heavy.

He managed to breathe, “Tuktua, I..”

And then, he felt himself falling, as all went dark. He heard his friend's voice, but it echoed and sounded like she called from far away.

“Ven? VEN!!”


	8. The Secret

For what felt like a while, the spirit saw nothing. He felt as though he was floating on his back on the surface of Kinu Lake like that day he learned to swim, only it did not feel cold or wet. He heard distant voices echoing, but could not understand their words.

The voices and the dark fled as he slowly opened his eyes, and squinted at a blurry but glowing shape in front of him. Then, he realized it was above him, as he felt he was lying on his back. He tried to sit up to get a closer look, but as soon as he tried, a familiar spinning and nausea came to him, and he whined as he quickly laid back down and shut his eyes tightly.

Once the spinning felt like it had mostly stopped, the spirit slowly rolled to his side, and waited again before slowly pushing himself up on his arms. He ached a little all over, but more than anywhere, he was smarting on the back of his neck. It almost felt like he had been...bitten there? Yet, when he massaged that area with a hand, nothing felt out of the ordinary other than the pain.

He slowly looked up at the light above him, and as he focused, he saw that it was an empty cone, hanging by some cordage. The fact that it glowed told him that it came from the Spirit Pine, for that was the only place he had seen it before. And at that time, he remembered a certain outha jill had been picking them up.

The cone dimly illuminated his surroundings, but it was redundant thanks to his own light, as he looked around. He rested in a bed not that different from his, within a circular chamber with a gnarled pillar of some sort in the center, with any protrusions either broken or cut off. On the ceiling above him, what appeared to be roots spread out like a web from the pillar in every direction. Where there were noticeable gaps between the roots, they had been filled in with what looked like some sort of thatching together of twigs, grass or other plant fibers, held together and in place with some sort of hardened clay. Around him, he saw that the chamber was sectioned off with some sort of drapes or curtains made from a weaving together of fibers in a manner not all that different from the bag that Peony always seemed to have with her. In his area, he found other similar bags, woven baskets and simple clay jars against the wall by the bed. Some of the jars and baskets appeared empty, while some had flowers in them. 

The flowers felt like odd guests in a place like this. Were it not for the cone or his own light, it would have been completely dark in here. And yet, there was a gentle warmth to the place that he felt in more than just his fur.

He then caught the muffled sound of voices..outside? Above? He still wasn’t sure where he was. He thought maybe he was in some sort of burrow under a tree or bush, but he wasn’t certain.

Light then poured into the chamber as a door or hatch opened from the other side of the pillar, and someone entered. They sounded like they were carrying quite a few things, and could be heard setting them down inside. He slowly sat up, at which the other occupant stopped as if they had heard him, and suddenly made their way around.

One of the separating drapes brushed aside with a paw to reveal a familiar face: it was Peony.

The spirit immediately broke into a smile. “P’nee!”

She smiled right back. “Ven! You’re ‘wake!”

The spirit tried to stand, but the jill rushed to him, gently pushing him to sit back down. “Nonono, don’ get up, y’ve been out a while.” She then quickly turned to dig among the things she’d brought in with her. “‘Ere,” she said, her paws bearing a couple of tubers and edible roots. “Chew on these, they’re a lot more fillin’ than grass an’ don’t taste awful like that lichen those guh’nuu eat.”

The spirit accepted them, nodding in thanks. He nibbled on one of the roots she gave him. It was bland, but that was all right. He looked around him and asked, “This..yours?”

“Heh..yeah, an’ Mama’s,” she said, one of her ears flicking as she sounded a little bashful. “How c’d y’tell?”

Chewing on the root, the spirit simply pointed at the empty cone dangling above them.

The jill chuckled. “Yeah.” She then huffed, going behind the curtain for a moment to get something else. She returned with a large acorn that Ven recognized. “K’enah c’n think all he wants about me takin’ them, but they’re useful an’ would go t’waste on the ground. They don’ stay lit f’rever, but until they go out, they give off light an’ e’en a little heat. And e’en after they’ve gone out, c’d pr’bly eat ‘em if I was desp’rate enough.”

The spirit nodded, impressed as always at his friend’s knowledge and resourcefulness. He had been so happy to see her and calmed by the peace of this place that for a moment he had forgotten why he was even here. At least, he assumed he was somewhere on the Outhan Plains. “You..well?” he then asked after swallowing, his brow furrowing with concern.

She shrugged, looking at him a little oddly. “‘F course I am,” she said, as if that was obvious.

“No, I mean…” He wasn’t sure where to begin; there was actually a lot he wanted to say or ask. 

She could see the questions in his face, and shrugged again, looking indifferent. “Ven, ‘s fine that you told K’enah the truth. There was no way I was gettin’ outta that ‘thout at leas’ a lecture from Mama, no matter what y’could’ve said.”

“Does she..know?” There was hesitation to Ven’s question.

“That you’re here?” The jill thought for a moment. “Yeah, she an’ Mama Tuktua had..uh..words,” she answered, as though that conversation had been a little awkward to witness. “She’ll at leas’, uh...tolerate you bein’ here.”

The spirit almost bolted onto his hooves at the mention of his guh’nuu friend, but thought better of it. “Where’d Tuktua go?”

“She was in a hurry an’ a worry for sure!” exclaimed the jill in response. “Haven’t seen ‘er like that ‘n a while, mebbe ever. Can’t say I blame ‘er though.” She then pointed at him. “She ‘ad you in ‘er mouth by th’ scruff ‘f yer neck. Y’were just hangin’ there, passed out! Gave ‘s all a scare.”

Ven rubbed the back of his neck again. That explained that ache. “Aft’r she talked t’ Mama,” continued Peony, “sh’ said she was goin’ back to th’ Spirit Pine to tell K’enah what ‘appened, an’ send f’r Kusu t’come get ya.” 

The mention of Kusu made the spirit wonder about a couple of other things. “Is it..morning?” he asked.

“Yeah, why?”

Ven put his hands on his ears, whining with dismay. “Learn flying today!”

Peony didn’t understand, as she had already left by the time Tuktua had persuaded K’enah to compromise. “Wait, y’mean trainin’ along with Kusu?” she asked, surprised.

The spirit bobbed his head. 

She then sounded hopeful. “”E’ll still be yours?”

The spirit yapped affirmatively, though he wilted at seeming to have missed out on today’s training. 

Peony then hopped a little with joy. “Tha’s great, Ven!” She then thought a little about the idea of him trying to ride a ku’nuki in his current state, and then frowned as she saw his discouragement. “..I wouldn’t worry ‘bout missin’ out t’day though, Ven. You…” She then offered the acorn, even popping off the cupule for him. “..Y’just need rest right now.”

The spirit did accept the acorn, though he looked as though he would protest staying here. 

But the jill would have none of it. “I heard Tuktua tell Mama what y’did. Most ‘f yer warning came too late.” She then sounded a little upset, though not with him. “The guh’nuu trampled a lot ‘f things and ate a lot ‘f our food as they came through ‘n a hurry. We’ll pr’bly have to venture out further f’r food an’ materials, which is pr’bly gonna be more dang’rous now…”

The spirit had ceased drinking water from the acorn as he noticed his outha friend pause in thought and look to the side. His brow furrowed again as he remembered what Tuktua had told him about her A’ta’s disappearance.

She then sighed. “..but we’ll make do, we’ll s’vive, like we always ‘ave. Nobody was ‘urt bad when th’ guh’nuu came through. An’ besides…”

She then stole a glance at him, looking thoughtful. “..’M jus’ glad that y’seem like you’ll be fine. I ‘eard Tuktua tellin’ Mama how e’en when y’were so tired, ya only cared ‘bout warnin’ us, an’ me. An’ that...that means a lot, Ven.”

Even though he could not see the change of shade in her face in his light, Ven could tell by Peony’s expression that she looked a little embarrassed upon saying this. He drank from the acorn, conveniently using it to hide the fact that he too felt hot in his face. He then coughed a little, as if he had drunk a little too fast. “..Thanks..letting me stay. Mama too,” he managed before drinking a little more to ward off more coughing.

The young jill cleared her throat. “Right, um..” She then nodded at the other food she’d brought him. “Well you ‘ave that, an’ get s’more rest. I’ll bring more ‘f you need it.” 

She then shook her head. “Don’ worry ‘bout us, we’ll be busy ‘elping th’ others fix things. I’ll come get ya when Kusu comes, arright?” She offered a faint smile at this.

He nodded, yapping happily also. As she bid him goodbye and left to assist her kind outside as she said, the spirit’s smile became sad, and while he understood she was busy, he still found himself wishing she could tarry. 

The rest of the day felt as though it passed as slowly as the Sirmiq, dramatic calving aside. He spent it slowly eating what Peony had given him, as well as drifting in and out of sleep. While he lay on the bed awake, there was little else for him to do but to dive deep in thought about the past few days.

His thoughts were of only worry, for his friends. He dwelled on each of them individually, and then collectively. Like Tuktua had observed, he too had felt something special in that bond that the three of them shared, not just what he felt with Kusu. The disapproval of K’enah and Laurel only deepened his resolve to preserve that friendship. He hoped his friends felt the same.

And for his guh’nuu friend, his feelings were bittersweet. Like he had felt in the winter past, he counted himself fortunate to have such a friend, feeling full of gratitude for her.

And empathy. In some sense, he knew and comprehended her pain, for her cries had reminded him of his own that he once made near the top of the Broken Tooth in that winter past, when he too was tormented with a terrible anguish. 

All those heavy burdens his friends carried, he wished he could take them away, but wondered how, or if that was even possible. 

Maybe not...but he could bear those burdens with them.

Losing himself again in aimless thought and sleep, more time passed until the spirit was startled awake by the door opening and someone entering. He sat up as a fatigued Peony drew the drape aside again.

“Hey. Kusu’s ‘ere,” she told him, showing a faint but weary smile. “E’s a little ways off for safety; I c’n take ya to ‘im.” 

As he cautiously stood, Peony produced something he did not see until she drew near and pressed it into his hands. It was a small woven pouch with a flap that went over the top, similar in design to her own bag, but smaller and without a cordage strap like hers had. It had a weight to it.

“Jus’ some more food f’r ya,” she said.

He frowned again, remembering how her own kind had less food due to the guh’nuu herd passing through. She shook her head at him before he could voice any objection, pressing the bag more firmly in his hands. “Y’need it, jus’ take it,” she insisted.

Seeing she was determined, he reluctantly nodded, smiling sadly. “Thanks.”

***

As the pair emerged from the burrow, Ven got a good look at the area. He could tell it was later in the evening, with the sky mostly clear as the sun was now setting behind the mountains. Still, the grass wavered and shimmered almost like the waters of Kinu Lake in its light. To the north, he could see the Innusik Wood, with the Spirit Pine looming in the far distance. The plains had the occasional rock or boulder jutting up from the ground, and various wide trees and bushes were spread around, though much farther apart from each other than in the Innusik Wood. And to the east and west were mountains, though not seeming to be as high as those he had seen from Kinu Lake or the Nuu’aniruk Rise. Also to the west ran a small ravine, through which the stream from Kinu Lake flowed.

And all around the immediate area, a multitude of outha were busily working, some standing guard with weapons like he’d seen at Kinu Lake, others conversing with one another, and the majority busy gathering, sorting, refining or applying materials like twigs, grasses, fallen branches and other debris to make the repairs or improvements to their homes like Peony had said. They looked just as numerous, if not more so, than his own kind.

But as he came out with Peony, all the hustle and bustle seemed to slow down as eyes began to settle on them, mostly on him. The staring made Ven uncomfortable, but for the part of the outha, they kept their distance, not thronging him or filling his mind with their own voices like his own kind had done. Instead, they watched, and whispered among each other. He was certain he heard his name a few times. And as he and Peony began walking north toward the woods, many of the outha--mostly the little ones--began to follow him and Peony some distance behind. Most looked either fascinated or happy to see him, even though they knew he was departing.

The spirit couldn’t help but look back at them, despite feeling embarrassed at their collective gaze, for he felt sorry for them for the hardship they had to now endure with the guh’nuu herd’s departure. Then, he noticed that more and more of the onlookers began to hang back as he went. It was then that he looked ahead, and saw his owl friend standing there, alone but dignified.

When their eyes met, Kusu hooted happily and hopped forward to meet him. “H’looo, Ven!” he exclaimed. “Yoooouuu loooook better! I’m glad yooou’re all right!”

The spirit couldn’t help but smile back at the owlet’s joy, and he embraced him in a hug as Kusu likewise wrapped him in his wings. “Ready t’goooo hoooome?” the owlet then asked.

“Yeah,” Ven replied a little sadly before looking back again. He saw that the crowd had stopped, most of them a significant distance away with some of their guards advancing toward the front. Those who had come to see him off grew more sparse the closer they came to Kusu. Among them, he could see Laurel, her arms folded with a stern look on her face. Closer to the edge of the crowd, the spirit spotted Ezhi--the young one he saved at the Sirmiq--who beamed with a smile and was wrapped in the arms of an older jill (whom he could only assume to be kin), also smiling at him. Ezhi’s smile widened, and he waved as their eyes met.

And the nearest of the crowd by a significant distance, there stood Peony. It grieved her that she could not be there embracing with them with her mother looking over her shoulder, and so, she forced a smile. “Arright, well..you two be safe, arright?” she said. “Y’have fun trainin’ together!” Knowing her mother would not be able to see, she then stole a serious glance at Kusu before looking to Ven and simply mouthed the words, “We’ll come find you.”

Ven looked initially confused, but quickly understood, acknowledging with a nod. “Bye, P’nee!” he exclaimed as he (with some effort) climbed onto Kusu and waved at her, and then did the same for the crowd of onlookers.

Again forcing a smile and fighting back tears, the young jill waved at them. “Bye, Ven! Bye, Kusu!”

Ven then gripped the bag she’d given him more tightly, and gave her one more solemn nod in thanks for all that she had done, before Kusu began flapping his wings and took flight with him, heading north.

As they flew up and away from the outha, Kusu took a moment to look behind him at them, Peony in particular. His gold eyes then narrowed for a moment, and then his eyes shut as he began to hoot softly and repeatedly, as if he were chuckling.

Ven looked at him oddly. “What? What’s funny?”

The owlet raised a brow at him, and then suppressed a chortle.

“Nothin’.”

***

The next few days for Ven felt much like his first days of instruction. Those days left him feeling a little overwhelmed with all the knowledge taught to him, but most of that had been given while just sitting still and listening beneath the branches of the Spirit Pine. The knowledge to be had this time was indeed new, but also came with inherently dangerous application.

Now, with his faithful companion Kusu, the two worked together to learn to fly, ride and maneuver about in the sky alongside other older spirits and their ku’nuki. He quickly came to understand that riding a ku’nuki effectively was more than just being able to hold on, or point or say which way to go. He had to learn to lean with Kusu’s banks, tighten the grip of his legs with the dives, and keep low whenever they needed to go fast. Some of the maneuvering, Kusu did because of how Ven leaned; other times, the spirit had to learn and recognize cues from Kusu and lean or grip accordingly for safety, tighter maneuvering, or both. By the end of the first day of this, the two had indeed found a synergy, one that Ven attributed to the fact that he was not just riding an animal, but a friend whom he had chosen, and who had accepted him.

Even so, all that leaning and tensing to assure his grip, combined with the constant mental focus and the ever present danger of falling, were both physically and mentally taxing. Much like when his instruction at the Spirit Pine first began this summer, Ven returned to his home over the next several days, only to sleep. Not only was he mentally tired, but now he was physically tired and sore on top of that.

His fatigue notwithstanding, he did not forget one small change to his sleep routine. Each night before he went to sleep, he made sure to clutch in his hand the crystal shard he had found in his home some days before. He had an idea on what he could do with it.

***

After a few days of this rigorous instruction, the spirit was given some free days to rest and renew. He welcomed it, looking forward to getting to sleep in just about as much as the prospect of play time with Kusu or even Tuktua...and hopefully Peony.

On the first morning of those rest days, the spirit was startled awake by a tapping at the door. A glance up at the amount of light coming through the “window” of his home told him it was fairly early in the morning. He got up and stumbled his way to the door, the lingering soreness and having his sleep interrupted leaving him feeling a little groggy and grumpy.

But, the tapping did not sound like someone was throwing pebbles at it, like Peony had done in the past. Who or what would be right at his door?

With a surly grunt, he opened the door, and was met with a happy hoot.

“H’looo, Ven!” greeted Kusu, looking as cheerful as ever and appearing oblivious to the spirit’s not-so-enthused countenance.

Ven had met with Kusu at the Spirit Pine for his training with him, so it was a surprise to the spirit that the young ku’nuki was here at his home to meet him. “Hi, Kusu,” said Ven. He managed a tired smile, trying his best to hide the grumpiness. He was distracted from that as he then noticed something strange about the owlet: a pair of furry brown ears with black tips poked up from behind his head.

The spirit looked at him with bemusement. “..P’nee?”

“Aww!” exclaimed the jill in disappointment as her paws came atop the owlet’s head, and she brought herself up from hiding behind into view. “I wanted t’surprise ya, how’d ya know?”  
“Ears,” replied Ven, touching one of his own larger ears as he spoke.

“Ooohh,” she grumbled with annoyance as she looked up, and then proceeded to straighten her ears with a paw and then flatten them against her head. “..Yeah, that’d do it,” she muttered. She then broke a smile at him, ignoring the fact that her ears returned back to standing up. “Anyway, mornin’! We’re gonna have somethin’ ta eat, and then we’re gonna work on yer home t’day!”

The spirit was happy at this news as well as seeing them, but he had a hard time showing it since he was still waking up. He stretched his arms, and gave a little whine as his mouth went wide open and his tongue stuck out with a big yawn. It actually made Kusu draw back a little in surprise, while Peony blinked at him. 

“Coulda fit my acorn in ther’,” she said under her breath to no one in particular.

“Hm, wha’?” said Ven, still recovering from the yawn.

“Nothin’!” came the hasty reply from the jill with a clearing of her throat, smiling again. Kusu’s brow lifted as he peered up at her, with a look on his face as if to say “I heard that”, though he said nothing. 

Kusu had only been to Ven’s home once before, when he brought him there from the Outhan Plains several days before. As such, the surrounding vicinity was prime for finding grubs and other bugs for Kusu to eat. With both Ven and Peony’s help, it was even easier, as they were able to upturn some rocks, branches or smaller logs for the ku’nuki to find more food, while they also foraged for themselves. 

Ven and Kusu returned on foot to the base of the tree, the owlet gulping down a worm while the spirit carried some leaves and berries. Peony seemed to lag behind, and when they noticed and looked back, the spirit was surprised to see the jill dragging a large coil of sturdy-looking rope. For some reason, Kusu was not surprised by it.

Peony spoke around a mouthful of berries and leaves as she explained one of her ideas for improvements to the spirit’s tree home. “So, I think th’ first thing we c’n do is put somethin’ t’gether that’ll make it easier f’r you--or at leas’ me--t’ get up th’ tree to yer door. This one’s pretty much done, it jus’ needs a few knots an’ then we c’n bring it up t’yer home.”

As the rope did not look very natural to the spirit, he looked at her curiously. “You..made that?” he asked, amazed.

“Yup!” exclaimed the jill, puffing her chest with pride. “Been workin’ on it ever since ya moved in.” She then gave a nod to Kusu. “Would’ve been pretty ‘eavy to drag all th’ way here from home; Kusu made gettin’ it ‘ere a lot easier.”

Unsure if he understood her idea clearly, Ven asked, “So...climb up it to get up?”

“Yup!” she exclaimed happily. “Or one ‘f us can pull up th’ other too, ‘r we c’n use it to pull up things if Kusu’s not around.”

The owlet tilted his head at them both. “Why wooouldn’t I be?”

The jill sat, bringing her bag in front of her to bring out more of the fruit and leaves she’d found. She shrugged. “Jus’ in case, I guess. ‘S always good t’have a backup plan.”

The spirit and the outha continued eating while Kusu sat to rest himself a little. As they chewed, the owlet glanced between them as an awkward silence began to hang over them.

Ven took this moment to ask the question that had been nagging him ever since seeing Peony here. “Does your Mama..know?”

“Nope!” came the prompt and rather indifferent reply from the jill as she continued to eat.

The spirit’s brow furrowed. “..Doesn’t worry you?”

“Not r’lly,” she replied. “Sh’ may not want me aroun’ you Ven, but I c’n tell Tuktua doesn’ agree. If sh’ did, _then_ I’d be worried.”

Ven gave a little ‘hmm’, almost resembling a whine. “All right,” he said. Still not wanting to give any further reason for Laurel to be angry with either or both of them, he suggested, “We should be careful.” 

The jill gave a little nod of agreement. “Well we’re just gatherin’ some stuff, won’t be strayin’ that far fr’m ‘ere, so, should be fine,” she reasoned. Finishing off the rest of her food, she closed up her bag and slung it onto her back as she stood.

Ven had finished at about the same time, so he stood also, as did Kusu. “Right,” said Peony. “So Ven, y’can climb up ther’ on yer own..” She then took one end of the rope and held it forth in 

Kusu’s direction. “..Kusu, y’can take this end an’ fly it up there, Ven c’n then find somethin’ sturdy inside t’ tie it aroun’, an’ then once I come up there on ya, I’ll do th’ tyin’. Oh!”

She colored slightly. “Almos’ forgot, we need t’ tie a few knots. Will make climbin’ with it easier.”

She uncoiled some length of the rope before she tied the first knot. “‘Ang on, this shouldn’ take long. Y’wanna head up?” she asked, looking to Ven.

The spirit yapped, and with a little running start, clambered up the tree quickly.

As he came back into his home, he realized something that gave him pause: the crystal he’d found was still laying aglow on his bed. He didn’t want either of his friends to see it, but with it now having a brightness that nearly matched his, how would they not see it once they were up here? He thought for a moment that he could keep it in one of his hands, but then that was one less free hand for the work they would be doing.

Another idea then came to him, that would do at least for the time being...if he was discreet.

***

Soon, Kusu came flapping up to the entrance with one end of the rope in his talons. Ven came out, with both hands free. 

“Here we are!” exclaimed the owlet, drawing near the door but laboring to hover. “Yooouu got it?”

“Mmhmm!” said Ven with a smile that seemed unusually tight. Kusu thought nothing of it, as he was more relieved at having the spirit taking the burden of the rope off himself. While the ku’nuki went down to bring up Peony, Ven then darted inside, finding something sturdy to loop the rope around until Peony could secure it better.

The jill and the ku’nuki soon arrived. Unfortunately, Kusu was a bit too big to be able to fit through the entrance. He could only peer in from outside as Peony entered and looked around for something that would suffice for tying the rope around. The spirit watched wordlessly while she searched among the inner wall of the tree, until with an “Aha!” she found a little gap in the tree’s sapwood that, after pulling on it with both paws a few times, seemed happy with what she’d found. “This’ll do.” She then went to it, and within a relatively short moment, she had the rope looped through, with a strong knot to keep it there. She then turned to Ven. “Y’can just coil it up when ya need to close th’ door. Now we jus’ need t’test it!” 

This was an opportunity Ven was looking for. Without hesitation, he gave a happy, muffled squeal as he zipped out the door, nearly crashing into Kusu in the process before jumping down. 

Befuddled, the jill and the owlet looked at each other. “...Arright, I guess he’ll try it?” she said.

The moment Ven landed, he quickly went around to the other side of the tree to get out of Kusu’s line of sight. He hastily dug a small hole at the base, upon which he spat out the crystal into it. It was uncomfortably warm while in his mouth, especially when it came to rest against his teeth. He then quickly covered it up before coming back around and pulling on the rope, looking up at a still-puzzled Kusu as the spirit brought the rope taut. Now able to speak unhindered, he shouted up, “I’m coming!”

The rope held just fine, and while it wasn’t as quick as his usual method to climb up, it surely would provide the means for Peony to come up if she couldn’t do so on the back of Kusu. As Ven reached the door, Peony hopped excitedly, clapping her paws together. “Great! That’ll make things easier.” Ven smiled, glad she was happy. Kusu also hooted happily as he watched and listened from outside.

“Now, I’ve been thinkin’, Ven..” Peony looked a little seriously at Ven as she explained her next idea. “I’ve thought about how they say y’woke up in th’ winter, an’ some ‘f my ideas ‘r for if somethin’ like that happens to ya again. We’re gonna make ya another bag, f’r water. In th’ winter, th’ stream’ll likely be frozen ‘r snowed over, so y’may not be able to get water that way.  
But, y’should have plenty ‘f water around from th’ snow. If yer home is warm enough--an’ with some other ideas I have, it will be--y’can fill th’ bag with snow, ‘ang it somewhere ‘nside and put somethin’ like a clay pot under it to catch th’ water as th’ snow melts. ‘S one of th’ main ways th’ outha get water in th’ winter. Eatin’ th’ snow if yer in a hurry is all right, but I hear that hurts yer mouth after a while, so.”

Ven, and actually Kusu too, found this process fascinating. The owlet piped up from outside, “Save yooouu a trip tooo the stream, toooo!”

The jill smiled, nodding at him. “Exactly, Kusu!” She then looked to Ven again. “So f’r the bag, we’re gonna need plant fibers, an’ f’r that, we need t’find a good-sized fallen tree ‘r log.”

***

After some time searching in the area around Ven’s tree home, the trio eventually did find such a fallen tree that was to Peony’s liking. She hopped up onto it, her nose and whiskers twitching while she examined the bark. “Ah,” she sniffed with satisfaction. “Nice an’ wet from th’ rain, too.” She then unslung her bag, brought it in front of her and dug out her little stone knife. The sight of the knife made Ven look and feel a little sad, but he said nothing. Searching for a spot where some of the bark had come off, she began making some cuts in the bark with her knife. Then, she wedged the blade under the bark, and looked up. “‘Ey Kusu,” she called out.

The owlet blinked, flapping and alighting near her as he looked at her curiously.

She smiled a little at him as she grunted with some effort, “Think yer hungry f’r a snack?” She continued to grunt as she pried and pulled at the bark. “Might be...somethin’...under here!”

Amid the groaning and cracking of wood, the jill pried up a large section of bark, from beneath which a multitude of bugs scurried about as their hiding spot was revealed.

“Oooohh,” marveled Kusu with wide gold eyes and a hungry look. He pecked away happily, gobbling up as many of them as he could.

As Ven drew near the log, he looked up at the jill and shook his head, amazed once again. “Learn all this..from outha?” he asked her.

“Yup. ‘Member what I said? Swift, smart an’ sneaky,” she said, beaming. “An’ look!”

She turned over the chunk of the bark she’d pried loose so Ven could see. Sure enough, fibers lined the inside, as well as on the spot she had removed the bark from. Carefully she tugged on the end of one such fiber from the bark, and slowly tore it off, leaving a long, wet strand. She held it up for them both to see, though Kusu wasn’t paying attention as he was still feasting.  
“We make cordage fr’m these, which we then use t’make all kinds ‘f stuff: rope, netting, baskets an’ such. V’ry useful.”

She laid it across the log for now, before she started pulling off another string of fibers from the bark. “We’ll need as many ‘f these as we c’n get,” she said, looking up at Ven. Her eyes idly strayed beyond the spirit, into the foliage. “Takes a lot ‘f it t’make good cordage. Then once we…..”

She stopped abruptly in her explanation as she froze, the chunk of bark falling from her paws. Her eyes went wide, and her fur began to stand up as her face paled with terror. 

Ven saw the sudden change in her visage, and turned in the same direction she looked, and saw it. The foliage parted as a large, male, wolflike denizen of Nisik came into view: a tekaen. Even on all fours, they stood significantly taller than Ven and even a little taller than Kusu. Its subsequent growl got the ku’nuki’s attention, who promptly screeched and began hovering at the sight, baring his talons in front of him in a sort of defensive stance.

Ven shuddered at something else about the tekaen that wrenched his heart. The spirit saw that the right side of the tekaen’s muzzle was withered and discolored, spreading up to their right eye, which had become clouded. Its fangs on that side, as a result, were constantly exposed, having become dry and beginning to yellow and rot.

The spirit then heard Peony hop down from the log, and felt the vicelike grip of her trembling paws in his back as she gave a frightened squeak. “Ven,” she whispered, panic in her voice. “Don’letitgemme..”

He too was afraid, but after a moment of hesitation, he steeled himself. The Light whipped out from one hand, while he stretched forth the other toward the beast, focusing his thoughts on summoning the Light from there in the form of a bright glow. Knowing how blighted creatures hated the Light, he knew the Light from his hand would confirm whether or not the tekaen truly had been corrupted. “Stop!” he commanded, as the Light shone forth from his hand, as he had willed.

As expected, the tekaen halted, drawing back a little and snarling at the Light Ven had brought forth. Then, to their surprise, the tekaen spoke. “Stand aside, spirit,” he grated. “My mind is not yet gone. You are not my quarry... _yet_.” He growled again, putrid saliva drooling from between his rotting fangs as he sniffed and peered hungrily past the spirit, at Peony. 

“No,” answered Ven, his face hardening. He heard Peony whimper with fear as he tightened the grip on his spirit weapon, bracing for a fight. “She is my friend.” Then, remembering to include Kusu, added with emphasis, “ _Our_ friend.” 

The tekaen gnashed his fangs at the spirit’s defiance, and hissed an ultimatum. “Move,” he said, “or you will join the outha in my meal.”

The spirit swallowed hard, trying his best to not show fear. He said nothing, only shaking his head in reply, keeping the summoned Light steady.

The tekaen then grunted, almost as if out of annoyance as he began to withdraw at the spirit’s intense light, which had not lessened. “So be it,” he grumbled, and began to turn as if to depart.

Ven had begun to relax at this, but at that very moment, with a sharp bark the tekaen pounced, his diseased maw gaping wide after him.

Both Ven and Peony squeaked in fright, and both rolled to the same side, dodging the attack as Kusu reeled backward. The jill then lost her nerve completely and, screaming in terror, suddenly leapt over the log and fled at full speed.

Ven scrambled back upright, the Light having dissipated from his hand at the quick evasion. Before he could ready himself, the tekaen swung a large, bluntly-clawed paw at him. It caught the spirit below the chest, knocking him aside, sending him sprawling and winding him completely. But the beast ignored him after that, leaping onto the log to chase after Peony.  
The beast was met by Kusu, who screeched angrily and hovered in his way with his talons at the ready. “Nooo! Leave ‘er alooone!” 

“Outta my way!” roared the tekaen, lunging at the ku’nuki. Kusu screeched again, but out of fright this time, shifting to the side and narrowly escaping the snap of the beast’s jaws. With that opening, the corrupted beast took off after Peony.

“Ven!” cried Kusu, flying over to the spirit, who was face down on the ground, struggling both to breathe and to get up. “The beast is chasing Peony, we’ve gotta save her!”

Coughing and clutching himself where the tekaen had struck him, Ven stumbled upright, still dazed by the blow. His friend's words then registered, and a surge of adrenaline spurred him into action. He bodily threw himself atop the ku’nuki. “Go. Go!!” he wheezed in pain.

Knowing the spirit was still recovering, Kusu shouted, “Jus’ hoooold on!”

Not in his training, nor even at the Sirmiq, had Ven known such haste in the ku’nuki’s flight as he did now, as they flew after their friend. The woods became even more of a blur than they had upon the back of Tuktua, and the spirit had his own vice grip on Kusu as they approached a speed that the spirit would have normally thought dangerous in these trees.

But clearly, their training already had borne fruit. Without any touches or other cues from Ven, Kusu pressed on confidently in his high-speed pursuit, dipping, rising, banking and even rolling vertically at times to weave his way through the Innusik Wood.

Kusu then screeched again, and at this, Ven looked below. He could see the fast rustle of the ferns and other plants some distance ahead as Peony literally ran for her life on all fours. The tekaen was not far behind, crashing through the brush much more noisily, but still slowly catching up to her. “Heellp!!” she shrieked, having heard Kusu’s cry.

While the jill was fast, what she lacked in speed compared to the tekaen, she made up for in maneuvering of her own, changing direction suddenly and frequently in a desperate effort to put more distance between them. Fortunately for Ven, Kusu was able to match her maneuvers in the air, and while Peony’s tricks did slow down the tekaen at times, it did not slow down Kusu. Thus, soon the ku’nuki and the spirit had caught up above them.

But now what? They had to act fast. Ven could tell that Peony was getting tired, and her predator was closing in on her.

“Bring down! Close!” shouted the spirit, pointing at the tekaen. “Have to stop him!”

Kusu looked back at him, and wordlessly nodded, diving down to intercept.

The spirit thought he felt his heart go up to his head as Kusu dove. The closer they flew down to the tekaen, the closer the beast seemed to be getting to Peony. As soon as the ku’nuki leveled out just behind the tekaen, the spirit breathed deep, and leapt off. Hitting the ground running, Ven put on an extra burst of speed, and swung his arm.

It was then that several things happened at once. The tekaen leapt in a lunge after Peony, and as Ven’s spirit weapon coiled around and entangled one of the tekaen’s front paws, the corrupted animal’s powerful jaws snapped shut upon the jill’s right foot, and she squealed in pain. The tekaen then gave a sharp bark as he tripped, freeing Peony, but not without his fangs further raking her foot and sending her tumbling forward. She tried to get up and get away, but cried out in agony as she limped badly for a few steps before falling down.

The tekaen stumbled to a stop. Enraged, the corrupted beast snarled, “Enough!” as he whirled around, turning on Ven with fangs bared.

Enough, indeed. The first--and last--thing he saw as he turned was Ven swinging his whiplike spirit weapon wide, before the full weight and momentum of a ball of light on the end of it struck him in the jaw. There was a crunching sound upon impact, with that sound dwarfed by a loud “snap” like that of the breaking of a large bough from a tree. The beast’s head and neck bent at a gruesome angle as they flew to the side, limply rolling several paces before coming to rest, and remaining still. 

Breathing hard, the spirit gaped and quivered with shock at what he had done. There was no other choice in the spirit’s mind for the corrupted beast but to put them down, but their death at his hands filled him with regret, all the same.

Peony then rent the air with another pained scream. Her breath became rapid and strangled as she shivered violently and clutched her leg. Her foot was mangled almost beyond recognition, already soaked in blood as it bled profusely. Had it been in the tekaen’s jaws much longer, he might have bitten it off completely.

“P’NEE!” shrieked Ven, and Kusu screeched in horror as he circled overhead. The spirit rushed forward, and clamped his hands down over the jill’s deep wounds in hopes of stemming the bleeding.

But even as the jill wailed in pain at this, the spirit drew back for a different reason. He too squealed out of pain, for the blood brought an all-too-familiar sting when his hands came in contact with it.

One look confirmed his worst fears: even amid the blood, the lacerated flesh of Peony’s foot could be seen beginning to wither and discolor. The Blight from the tekaen was continuing its terrible work on his dear friend.

He locked eyes with Peony, who looked terrified and had begun to cry as she stammered, “..H-h-he got me, d-didn’ ‘e?”

Ven furiously wiped the blood off his hands onto the ground to stop the stinging. “Noooo! Peony!” cried Kusu as he alighted between them. Frightened by the jill’s cries and the sight of her injury, he looked desperately at Ven for direction. 

The sound of the owl’s voice gave the spirit one idea, at least. “Kusu!” he exclaimed, and then stood up and pointed toward the Spirit Pine. “Find others! Get help!”

The owl nodded, and hastily took off in that direction, screeching as he went. 

When Kusu had departed, Ven looked at his hands. The stinging still lingered as some blood still remained on his hands, and as he looked upon Peony’s terrible wounds, panic began to seize him.

The fear Peony saw in his face only deepened her own. “...’M dying, aren’ I?'' she sobbed before she went into another pained fit of crying, which became muffled as she put her face to the ground. “...Ven, ‘elp me!” she begged amid her agony. 

The spirit didn’t know what to do. If he did nothing, she would either succumb to the Blight and have to be killed to stop further spread, or she would simply bleed out and die. On the other hand, he knew the Light would not distinguish the Blight from his friend if he tried to cleanse it like he had with the dead guh’nuu. Every option he could think of, one way or another, pointed to her death.

“P’nee..” he whispered, as feelings of inadequacy and indecision combined into an awful guilt, forcing tears from his eyes as he dropped to his knees by her side.

The jill shook her head, barely able to keep her eyes open as her pallid face scrunched with pain and crying. “..Please ‘elp,” she wheezed. “..please, Ven…”

“I don’t kn-know, P’nee! D-don’t know what do!” Ven cried, shaking his head as he broke down. “I don’t..”

And then, from deep within, a dim spark of hope kindled within the spirit as a faint, fleeting thought of another way came to him that did not end in death. But, how to reach that way was not clear to him. He only knew that somewhere, somehow, it was within him. And he had to try to find it. For her sake.

He shut his eyes tightly, concentrating upon summoning the Light like he’d been taught. But in what form, he could not tell. The only thing he could think to focus upon were words he ever so distantly heard in that winter past. They were the words of Tuktua, as she lamented:

_"You poor, brave little child..”_

Over and over again he went over those words in his mind as he felt the anguish in them with the anguish of the present run together, as he desperately yearned for his friend to live. 

As she continued to weep, Peony felt herself becoming weak and cold as the life within her continued to ebb away. As weakness and shock buried her mind in a haze, she thought her eyes had begun to deceive her. The world around her had grown darker with the inky blue of a wintry dusk. She turned her face from the ground and saw her spirit friend still by her side, but his natural glow seemed brighter than before. With a far-off look in her widening eyes, she gazed at him with awe as his light continued to intensify, until she had to squint and look away.

Then, she felt the gentle touch of one hand upon her head, and the other resting upon her mangled leg. At first, she felt herself become colder as she then thought she saw she had a luster of her own. Then, as she felt the warmth of a blue, flamelike glow wash over her, she burst into more tears and crying.

This was it. Her friend was cleansing the Blight, and her with it. Death was imminent. 

Then, she realized that she did not feel as though she burned, nor did she appear to be consumed by the magical flames. The only blue embers that rose from her appeared to come from her leg. She looked up at her friend, barely able to distinguish amid the spirit’s brilliance that there was a sad but calm determination in his tearstained face. 

Confusion entered into her mental haze. Was she dying? She no longer felt like she was, and yet, she thought maybe she was, as the terrible pain of her maimed leg was slowly fading, until it was gone completely, and the bright blue embers stopped rising from her. And then..the daylight slowly returned, and as it did so, Ven’s brightness subsided until he was back to his natural, normal glow, and he began to breathe long and heavily as he let go of her.

“..Ven?” The haze had left the jill’s mind, but not her confusion. She then managed to sit up, and lifted up her foot to examine it. 

She stared, marveling at what she saw. The pain was gone. The blood was gone. The lacerations were gone. 

_And the Blight was gone_. Her foot was restored, like nothing had ever happened. She then flexed and spread her furry toes, without issue. Then, she stood on her feet, and again felt no issue. She then looked at her spirit friend, whose eyes were now open. And though he looked weary, the astonishment on his face seemed to match hers. 

Her face then wrinkled as she again burst into tears, and suddenly threw her paws around him in a tight embrace, burying her face in his shoulder as she wept again, but this time out of joy. “Y’saved me…..y’saved me. Thank you, thank you…”

Yes, he had saved her. And while he still wasn’t fully certain how he’d managed to do what he did, he was just as grateful as she. The spirit said nothing, and only returned the hug, sharing her joy as well as her weeping.

After they both eventually settled down, Peony withdrew from the embrace, shaking her head in amazement and sniffing loudly as her eyes went to the ground . “Ven, this…” 

Her eyes began to widen, and she slowly looked up at him as the implications of what had just happened began to dawn on her. “...This ‘s huge. What y’jus’ did, only th’ Spirit Pine’s done! An’ that’s just _in legends!_ ” 

She then went off on one of her fast, frantic rambles. “Whenev’rybody’ears’boutthiss’gonnachangev’rythin’anth’Blight’llneverkill’nyone’nymorean’--”

As she did this, the spirit only tensed in fear, his fur standing up. “No!!” he suddenly blurted out, looking scared and barely refraining from grabbing her as he vigorously shook his head. “We can’t! Can’t tell!”

The jill gaped at him in shock, looking at him like he’d gone crazy. “Whaat? ‘Can’t tell’?? Whadaya mean ‘can’t tell’??”

The spirit didn’t answer her. He got up suddenly and kept shaking his head, repeating the words “Can’t know” in a fearful mumble over and over again. Still recovering from what he’d just done, he stumbled away in the direction of the dead tekaen, intent on cleansing it away before Kusu returned.

Peony did not understand at all. At first, she thought the spirit had indeed gone crazy, but she could also see how the thought of others learning of what happened truly scared him. Why?

She slowly followed the spirit over to the body. Wanting to understand what was going through the spirit’s mind, her tone changed from skeptical to calm. “Ven, why--”

She then had to pause, as the tekaen’s body glowed and went aflame at Ven’s touch, and she waited for the cleansing ritual to finish before she tried again.

“Why, Ven?” she asked as the last of the body had burnt away, the sound of her voice as if she really was trying to understand. “Why can’t ‘nyone know?”

After recovering enough, the spirit turned to face her, but still didn’t really answer the question. “Can’t know,” he said once again. “Not K’enah, not Tuktua, not Kusu. No one.”

“But _why_ , Ven?” asked the jill again, lifting her paws in a sort of shrug. “I mean, what’re we gonna tell Kusu when ‘e comes back?”

“We lie,” said Ven rather quickly. He then put a hand to his mouth, looking like he’d let a bad word accidentally slip out.

“ _Lie??_ ” scoffed Peony, appalled mostly by the fact that he was the one suggesting it. “Ven, whatev’r happened t’ ‘did right’??”

The spirit opened his mouth as if to give her an answer, but he had none.

“What’s going on here?”

Startled, Ven and Peony both looked up to see K’enah riding on his ku’nuki, flanked by two more spirits on theirs also. Huffing and puffing, Kusu then arrived behind them, landing near his friends. “I fooouund help, Ven!” exclaimed the owlet. “I fooouunn…”

The owlet trailed off as his eyes fell upon Peony and beheld that she was whole. His gold eyes went wide, and his beak opened slightly. He was speechless.

Not looking very happy to have been summoned like this, K’enah eyed both Ven and Peony with suspicion as he and the other spirits with him all landed. “Kusu here says you were badly hurt by a corrupted tekaen,” he stated. After a glance at Kusu and, upon hearing no response from any of the three, he looked to Ven and Peony again. “Well?”

“Oh!” exclaimed Peony, suddenly bursting into explanation as she realized the keshka had not heard their conversation. “We were jus’ playin’, Keshka sir. Ven was pr’tendin’ t’be a tekaen an’ chase me aroun’, when I tripped onna root.”

She then put some weight on her healed foot and faked a cringing face. “Still smarts, but I’ll hop it off.” She then looked eagerly at Ven.

The spirit blinked at her for a moment, and suddenly understood to play along. He then lifted his arms, stretching forth his hands, made his fur stand up a little and bared his teeth in an attempt to look menacing at the jill as he made a surprisingly good snarl. “Raaaahhh, gonna getcha, outha! Gonna eatchaa!”

“See?” said Peony to K’enah while gesturing toward Ven. “W’jus got a li’l carried away ‘n ‘magination, is all.”

The keshka seemed unconvinced at first, but then grumbled a sigh, looking displeased. He shot a glare at an utterly dumbfounded Kusu before addressing all three of them. “I do not have time to waste on false alarms raised from games taken too far. Not while the Blight still threatens this land.”

His withering glare then rested on Peony. “If I recall correctly, Peony, your mother didn’t want you having anything to do with Ven. She will hear of this.” 

Ven could see the jill’s temper rising in her face at K’enah’s words, but she held her tongue. Then, the keshka turned on him with a steely eye. “And you, Ven,” he said, pointing at him accusingly. “You and your ku’nuki ought to be resting, not wasting your energy and mine on vain diversions.”

Peony had to bite her lip hard. Yet, for once, Ven too took offense at K’enah’s words. The young spirit went over to Kusu, petting him affectionately before shooting the keshka a glare of his own, as he said, “His _name_ is Kusu.”

“...That it is,” conceded K’enah belatedly. He then looked between the three of them before speaking to Ven again. “You have two days before your training with him resumes. I expect you both to be ready to give it your all.”

And with that, he looked to the other spirits with him and motioned with his head toward the Spirit Pine. They all then turned and flew off on their ku’nuki, heading in the direction he had indicated.

After the other spirits were almost gone from view, Peony vocalized what at least she and Ven had been feeling inside. She looked in the direction K’enah had departed, and stuck out her tongue as she made an obnoxiously loud raspberry sound. “Th’ nerve,” she muttered under her breath. 

She then looked to Ven sadly. It appeared as though the opportunity for answers to this miracle--and as to why the need for secrecy--was past.

Ven had continued to stroke the ku’nuki’s soft plumage, feeling sorry for putting him through all that. Both the spirit and the outha seemed at a loss for words on what to talk about now, or how they would have to lie further to keep the truth from Kusu. 

But it was Kusu who actually spoke finally. The young owlet turned to look at Ven and said plainly with astonishment, “...Yoooouu _healed_ her.”

The truth, coming from him, startled both the spirit and the outha. Ven and Kusu’s eyes then met, and the spirit felt his searching gaze. It made him feel ashamed at having made Kusu look so foolish in front of K’enah. But even as he began to avert his eyes from the ku’nuki, Ven began to realize that he saw no anger or condemnation in Kusu’s countenance. 

There was only wonder. Which, like his cheery temperament, was contagious, especially at what Ven and Peony heard him utter next:

“..Just like the spirit of our ancient hooome.”


	9. Ancient Parents

What spirit? What ancient home? The ku’nuki’s words impressed deeply upon both the spirit and the outha’s minds. For Ven, it was much like the very first time he had heard mention of the Light and of the Spirit Pine from Tuktua. “...Who?” asked Ven, fascinated.

“Um..” Peony raised a finger, a little embarrassed at interrupting before Kusu could answer. “Tha’s all r’lly int’resting Kusu, and I’d _love_ t’hear more ‘bout you an’ what ye’re talkin’ about,” she said, actually sounding sincere rather than sarcastic. “..but uh, I kinda’d like t’get my bag back, an’ I feel like we c’d use another snack?”

Having spent much of his strength in both the healing and cleansing, Ven gave a weary yap of agreement. 

Kusu looked between them and, not seeming even the least offended, gave a happy hoot and said, “‘Course!”

***

The trio had to get airborne in order to figure out where the nearly deadly chase had taken them, and once they had, the young ku’nuki flew with much more care for Ven’s sake, knowing the spirit was tired. Soon, they returned to their original spot at the fallen log, where the jill was able to retrieve her things. The spirit again felt sad as he saw Peony pause thoughtfully upon finding her knife before she stowed it. Then, he felt a surge of gratitude that she had been spared from a similar fate to the blade’s original owner.

The trio then flew--in relative silence--over to the stream that flowed from Kinu Lake for quick and easy access to water, spending some more time there foraging like before. When they had acquired what they felt was enough for a snack, the spirit and the jill sat opposite from Kusu. 

His feathers ruffling with excitement, Kusu hooted, “Yoooou ready? My Mama has told me this story since I was a little hatchling.”

Ven and Peony looked at each other for a moment before they bobbed their heads at him, relaxing as they ate.

The young ku’nuki then looked up in thought, as if pondering where or how to begin. “Hmmmm...”

Then, like he’d told the story himself many times, he spoke to them, his usual hoots among his words a little more subdued than usual.

“...Many, many Mamas ago, lived a baby owl inna forest far, far away. She never met her owl Mama, hatching toooo a family of creatures not of her kind. But even soo, they welcomed her and loved her like her kind would have.

“Her sibling an’ best friend was a spirit.” He gave a thoughtful glance to Ven. “A spirit whoo glooooowwed like the full mooooon.” His hooting gave emphasis to his words, which he spoke with awe and reverence. “Together, they played.” He hopped and flapped about as if to reenact, and then stood up on the tips of his talons as he spread his wings wide. “Together, they grew, until the days came that the sky called to her.

“But she couldn’t answer,” said the ku’nuki with a somber tone as he spread his right wing, shaking his head sadly. “One of her wings didn’ work right, an’ it made her very sad.”

Hope then came to his voice. “But her family loved her, and her spirit sibling got an idea on how to make her happy. They gave her a gift….her owl mother’s final gift.” He then brought his right wing in front of him, bending the wingtips such that only the furthermost of them stood straight up in front of him. “...a single, large feather.”

Peony was captivated by the story. Ven was too, though the mention of the feather distracted him briefly, his ears drooping out of sadness.

“They fashioned it tooo her wing, and with her spirit sibling on her back, the sky was within reach.”

He spoke the last words of that sentence with excitement, standing up on the tips of his talons again, looking to the sky as he spread his wings wide again.

“An together, they fleeeewwww!” he exclaimed happily. “They flew all around the forest, and then beyond! She had never been so happy.”

Then, looking serious, he lowered and brought his wings back into himself. “But, carried away in her joy, they flew into a land neither of them knewwww….into a storm.” He said the last word as if trying to sound scary. It worked, for Ven’s fur stood up a little, and Peony made a soft but audible gasp.

“The spirit and she were separated,” continued Kusu. “The feather..” he held forth his furthermost wing feather up in front of him like he’d done before. “..was lost.” 

At this point, the jill had become aware that she kept gasping, and went quiet again, her face coloring.

Kusu looked sad again. “An’ she got hurt very badly. She was...dying. The spirit wandered the new land, searching for some way tooo help her. And as they searched, they learned that this new land was dying toooo. Its Tree, decaying. Its ancient Light, fading. 

“They loved their sister, an’ they felt sorry for the land. They wanted to save both. An’ so, the spirit was brave, and fought the decay. They brought hope to those living in the growing shadow, finding and bringing together the fragments of that ancient Light that would save their friend, and that land.”

He then looked hopeful, spreading his wings wide. “They did it! They found all the fragments, and brought them together!” Then, he paused, looking forlorn again. “But...what the spirit did not know, until the very moment it was required of them, was that to save their sister and the land, that ancient Light required the Light...of another. Their life, they would have to leave behind..to save the lives of all.”

A melancholy settled on all three of them at this sudden turn of events in the ku’nuki’s tale. And out of the corner of his eye, Ven thought he saw Peony glance his way, looking shaken with dismay before she looked to Kusu again.

Kusu then said somberly, “..An’ with such bravery, they...they embraced the ancient Light.”

The three of them, Kusu included, sat there, subdued and moved. Peony then spoke up, but there was no impatience in her words. Rather, there was worry. “...What ‘appened ta her?”

“The land revived,” answered Kusu. “Life began anew. An’ she was made all better. The Light of her sibling and friend was so powerful, even her bad wing was healed.” Kusu gave a sad smile. “She never forgot them, even as she grew tooo have a family of her own. An’ she made sure her own children, and their children, never forgot that spirit’s sacrifice for that land, and for her.”

He had bowed, even hunched over with the sad turn this tale had taken, but then stood tall, looking up in the direction of the Spirit Pine. “And so, to this day, we Ku’nuki remember what that spirit did long ago, by gladly lending our wings tooo the spirits of the forests, wherever we go.”

He then looked to Ven, sounding embarrassed, but also hopeful. “I’ve..never met that spirit, but...I’ve heard the story so many times from Mama, that I feel like I knooooow them. Like...like if _I_ was their sibling. And when I see yooooouuu, yoouuu remind me of them.” He then looked to Peony. “That’s hooowww I kneewww, when I saw yooouuu healed.”

So much about Kusu’s tale of his ancestral mother fascinated Ven. That there were other lands. Other forests. Other spirits! That the Light was found not just here in Nisik. Unfortunately, all of that was lost on him with the sorrow over that spirit’s sacrifice. And even more than that, it made him uncomfortable, as he felt those thoughts of self-doubt again as Kusu likened him to this other spirit.

If it weren’t for Tuktua, he thought, he never would have even survived the past winter. And without the Spirit Pine’s blessing or Tuktua’s help, he never would have been able to cleanse the Spirit Pine’s winter Blight, and be spoken of like he was some hero. And more recently, he likely would have drowned at Kinu Lake himself had Peony not caught him when she did.

And the most distressing thought of all--while Kusu might not have intended it--was this: had he heard his own fate in that tale?

No, he reasoned within himself. He was not that spirit. And all the doubt and guilt within him told him he never would be. 

And that doubt and guilt, Peony could see in his face and his fallen ears. “Kusu, don’t,“ she interrupted. “Y’know he doesn’t like bein’ praised like that.”

She then drew near the spirit, and thought to reach to place a comforting paw on Ven’s shoulder, but she hesitated.

And the opportunity passed, as Ven stood and went over to the bank of the stream. “An’ nobody else can know, Kusu. Can’t know I did that,” he said sadly as he went. 

The ku’nuki hooted with shock, his gold eyes going wide. “What?? Hoooww come?”

Peony went to follow, stopping some steps behind the spirit. She looked between the ku’nuki and the spirit, the same question resurfacing in her own mind. 

The spirit stood on the edge of the dropoff, staring at his reflection in the flowing water below. “I...I don’t know. Spirit Pine said not to talk about it. Not t’ anyone.”

Peony tilted her head, confused. “‘E told ya not to? Y’mean y’ve done it _before_? Wait..” Her whiskers twitched madly at a realization. “Tuktua said y’got hurt real bad by th’ Blight. That’s how ya--”

“ _Stop!_ ” The spirit turned suddenly and unexpectedly, barking the word angrily with his teeth bared and his fur standing up a little. 

A hand then went to his mouth as he immediately regretted speaking harshly like that. And, feeling ashamed, he turned back toward the stream to hide his face from them. “..Sorry,” he said, barely suppressing the emotion that came with the pang of remorse.

Both of his friends flinched at his sudden outburst. Peony’s ears fell flat against her head. “Ven..” she said, inwardly debating whether to draw nearer to him. “..if y’don’t want us t’talk about it….we won’t.” 

She then looked to Kusu. “...Right, Kusu?”

The ku’nuki still didn’t understand, but he worried for his spirit friend, and feared lest he had offended him. He bobbed his head. “Right.” 

Peony then did draw near, cautiously. The spirit had by then sat down, his legs hanging off the edge while leaning forward with his chin resting in the palms of both hands. All this serious stuff that had happened or was talked about led the young jill to realize that maybe he was just tired of it all right now. With Tuktua’s words about him tugging at her memory once again, she was reminded that the spirit was still a child, just like her. A child, perhaps, that just wanted to be a child right now.

This gave her an idea. “..Hey Ven?” she asked, gently letting both her paws rest on his shoulder. “Why don’ we all jus’...go play somewhere, huh? Y’wanna do that?” She offered a faint, hopeful smile.

The spirit looked at her, and after some thought, a little smile came to his face. His tail even gave a gentle wag. “..Yeah. I like that idea,” he replied. 

Kusu hopped near, having caught on to Peony’s line of thinking. “What should we play?” he asked, brightening a little. 

“Oh I d’no,” said the jill to the ku’nuki. “I think..” She then looked to Ven again. “..well Ven, what d’you wanna do?”

The spirit pondered for a moment, and as an idea began to form, his tail wagged some more.

***

The trio soon found a spot further upstream where the stream was wider and more shallow, and they spent the rest of that day playing there. They swam about, splashed each other, skipped rocks, and other fun games that helped all of them to forget, even if only for a time, the traumatic events of earlier that day. They played until Ven tired, at which point Kusu flew him home, and Peony soon after. 

That night however, sleep eluded Ven. Though his body was tired and longed for rest, he laid on his bed overwhelmed with astonishment and amazement over the revelations of the day. He again clutched the glowing crystal in one hand, sometimes idly staring at it or turning it between his fingers as his mind wandered.

With his healing of Peony, he had effectively spoken of this power the Spirit Pine had deemed unspeakable. He wondered, might the Spirit Pine somehow know of it already? And if not, should he be told? How long would he have to keep it secret? And, would he even be able to, if the power “matured”?

...Would he even be able to keep it a secret, if it meant letting another die?

He needed answers. Initially he hesitated on how he might get them, but the desire to know was stronger than his misgivings. And there was also something else he’d been meaning to do.  
Later that night, the spirit walked into the clearing where the Spirit Pine stood, and stared up at it in awe once again. It had taken him a little longer to get here, as his fatigue had lingered long enough that he chose to walk the whole way.

The chirp of birds and crickets faded as the spirit entered the clearing. Only a faint, tinkling sound and a breeze was in his ears. And to his surprise, he saw none here. He and the Spirit Pine appeared to be alone. 

It was what he desired, anyway. He walked beneath the great branches of the Tree, until he found a spot where he could just make out the Tree’s Light vessel, through the branches and needles. He then shut his eyes, and concentrated on summoning the Light, but once again in a form he had not yet attempted.

As he focused, he thought on that day Peony had shown him for the first time what was now his home, how they found what remained of a spirit there. With that, the desire for them to be remembered rekindled within him.

Soon, he could tell even with closed eyes that something bright was now before him, and he opened his eyes to see that a glimmering sphere of light--one he remembered--floated in his hand. He smiled at the sight of it, even though he was fighting tears for the sorrow of one lost. He then held up the sphere, toward the Light vessel of the Tree. After a moment, the sphere left his hand, gently rising up and through the branches. The spirit then sat to rest himself, and watched the sphere rise until he could no longer see it. For a moment, he thought he could see the Light vessel glowing more brightly, and he heaved a content sigh. The loss of a spirit did sadden him, but he took solace in that he had returned them to where they could truly rest. 

Ven then felt his fur stand up as he heard the sigh of one stirring, but it was in his mind, his smaller ears twitching.

“...You found one of my daughters, Ven,” spoke the Spirit Pine in that deep but still voice. “Thank you, for bringing her back to me.”

As Ven began to ponder on her, the Tree perceived his thoughts. “Her name was Talu. Her strength was not in her arms, but in her charity and compassion. She was like a mother to many of her kin, and even to some of the outha. Those who knew her will rejoice to know her memory has been returned.” 

After a pause, the Tree then inquired, “..But, that is not the sole reason you have come, is it?”

Ven hesitated to answer, but like from the eyes of Kusu earlier that day, he felt that same searching look from the Spirit Pine, even though there were no eyes to behold.

“...Ah, I see,” said the Tree after a time. “Your power has manifested itself again. Even since the summer began, I can feel you have grown.” Then, he gave a sad sigh. “...Perhaps too quickly.”

Ven’s eyes lowered, as did his ears, at this before the Spirit Pine elaborated. “You are young, Ven. And yet, struggle..Fear..Pain..Doubt..Guilt..Loss...these you have come to know as deeply as any of your closest friends. I wish for you to care for this land and its creatures--as you’ve promised--but I also wish for your happiness. That is why this power of yours must be guarded.”

Like Kusu and Peony had pleaded of him, the spirit did the same of the Spirit Pine. “..A’ta, why?’ he asked, having thought to ask the question with that term of endearment only in his mind, but he spoke it aloud instead.

He felt his smaller ears tingle as the Tree’s reply came again, only in his mind. “For several reasons, Ven. Reasons that I do not wish for you or any of my children to have to bear now. I fear lest the answers would be more troubling, than not knowing. Please understand, my child, this does not reflect ill upon you. I do not want even K’enah to know of it, or to know why.”

The answer wasn’t what the spirit had hoped, but the fact that he was already weary with such burdening matters (as Peony had keenly observed) made it easier for him to understand and accept, and he nodded understandingly. Curious, he wondered in his mind, “..Can it be taught?”

“It cannot,” replied the Spirit Pine again in his mind, “hence why it is so rare. Before you, there has been only one time, long ago, that it has been summoned forth to heal a handful of creatures who bravely fought alongside my children against the Blight. In order to save them from both corruption and grave wounds, I imbued them with a portion of my Light. It not only healed them, but rendered them ageless, able to live as long as any spirit. Though, only one of them still survives today.”

The spirit tilted his head and looked up, his curiosity lingering.

“Oh, you already know her, dear child,” said the Spirit Pine. As realization came to the spirit’s face, the Tree continued. “Yes; while she may not look it, Tuktua has lived longer than every living spirit of Nisik. I, as well as each keshka of Nisik, have relied on and valued her strength and wisdom. Nisik would not be what it is, without her.”

Ven’s eyes lowered as he thoughtfully pondered his first meeting his guh’nuu friend. No, he agreed within himself. No, it would not.

“She came with the guh’nuu herd, generations ago,” the Spirit Pine told him. “She had a mate, but before they had any fawn to call their own, he was killed while defending the herd from corrupted tekaen. And after her own healing, she chose to remain. My children and the outha, they are her family now.”

It all made sense to Ven now. He had heard Peony refer to the guh’nuu as a “mama” like her own actual mother Laurel. It also explained why or how the guh’nuu, at least to him, seemed so deeply familiar with the land and forest of Nisik. She was a part of it all, like even he was.

The Spirit Pine then concluded, with concern in his voice, “...You need rest, my child. Go, now. Attend to your learning, but do temper it with time spent with your friends. You need their friendship just as much as they need yours. Your secret is safe with them, but with them, it must remain.”

Ven gave a little whine out of disappointment at the Tree’s urging, but he nodded again nonetheless. “Yes, A’ta,” he said within his mind. “We won’t speak of it.”

“It is well,” said the Spirit Pine. And with a soft sigh, the Tree fell silent again, returning to slumber.

The spirit then arose, left to ponder on the Tree’s words. From what the Spirit Pine said, his answer, or lack thereof, was for the better. He would trust and have faith in the Tree’s words and reasoning.

“..Ven?”

Another voice, heard in his larger ears, startled the spirit, and he turned to see K’enah approaching. The keshka eyed him with mild suspicion, but he spoke like he was surprised to see him here, rather than sounding condescending. “What are you doing here? It’s late.”

“I..” Ven fumbled in his words for a moment, unsure if or how much K’enah had eavesdropped on his conversation with the Spirit Pine. He finally answered with chagrin, “..I couldn’t sleep.”

To his relief, K’enah did not press on the subject. “Mm,” said the keshka. “Yeah, that happens.” He then looked up at the Spirit Pine. “It’s calming to be here when it’s more...quiet and empty like this. I can see why you would think to come here now.”

Eager to shift the focus away from himself, Ven thought to ask, “Do we know what..what attacked the guh’nuu?”

The keshka’s brow raised. “We have suspicions, but no. On that note..” He nodded at the younger spirit. “..thank you for your help with that. Tuktua told me what you did, cleansing the bodies. I’m glad you’re applying what you have learned. Perhaps one day, you can teach the ritual to the younger spirits.

“..Anyway,” said K’enah, “I won’t trouble you further. I hope you find rest. Maybe we’ll have more we can talk about at the Autumn Feast.” He turned away as if to leave.

Ven didn’t know what he was talking about. “..The what?”

The keshka blinked, a little surprised Ven had not heard. “The Autumn Feast. After summer, before we sleep, we spirits as well as the outha and even some of the ku’nuki gather together peacefully beneath the Spirit Pine to celebrate our victory over the Blight. To welcome the new spirits. And remember and honor those we lost.”

“Oh..” said Ven, pondering on that as K’enah turned again to leave. “..K’enah?”

The keshka stopped in his walk, but he did not turn. “Yes, Ven?”

“Have..” The young one hesitated. “..have we lost any?” Talu, the one the Spirit Pine had told him about, was the only one he knew of.

K’enah paused, his larger ears seeming to droop more than they did naturally as he appeared to look at the ground. “..We’ve lost several,” he sighed. “Good night, Ven.” He resumed his walk, leaving the younger spirit alone again. 

Ven watched him go, remembering the words Tuktua had spoken about him. At first, he was just glad that the keshka had not come to scold or lecture him again. Now, he actually felt sorry for him. And to some small degree, the young spirit felt like he began to understand why the Spirit Pine wished for him to find time to simply enjoy himself and be happy. 

How else could one not falter under the weight of such burdens like those he, and especially K’enah, felt?

***

The warm, lush days of summer continued to pass in Nisik, and with them, the spirit’s rigorous training with Kusu continued. Together they continued to soar, improving in their maneuvering as well as recognizing each other’s cues. Eventually, they had learned to work together so well, that K’enah deemed their training was completed. This news was sudden and a little surprising to them both, as at least Ven could tell that there was more he could learn. But, remembering the Spirit Pine’s yearning for his child to have happier times, Ven did not protest, and welcomed the break this would bring him and his ku’nuki friend. 

It also felt like something worth celebrating. And so, the afternoon of the next day found Ven, Peony and Kusu arriving on the eastern shore of Kinu Lake, at an empty spot where they could play alone. They had not told the jill the news yet; she had thought they had simply been given some more “rest days”. 

After Kusu landed and the spirit and the jill dismounted, the owlet quickly went searching for food. Ven and Peony had already done some foraging before they arrived there, but they too went to the edge of the woods to find more food. The jill had come up with the idea on the way to have their own little picnic on the shore. As the pair foraged together, they conversed.

“How’re ya feelin’ with all this trainin’, Ven?” asked the jill.

“Tired,” answered the spirit, the word emphasized by a weary sigh that followed. 

“Yeah, I bet,” she agreed, her whiskers twitching as she tensed her body in some effort to get a feel for what she imagined the physical demands of the training felt like. “I’d be tired too, ‘avin’ ta be like that all day. ‘S it workin’, though?”

“Yeah,” said Ven with a smile. “Kusu’s pretty fast now.”

“Yeah, I know..” replied Peony, actually sounding and looking thoughtful as she picked some berries a little slower than normal before stowing them in her bag. “Been meanin’ t’tell ‘im..”

The spirit looked at her curiously as he picked some thick leaves. “Tell ‘im what?”

“Well, I..” hesitated the jill. She looked for a moment like she wasn’t sure to talk about what was on her mind. “...I was jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout the other day, when ya..”

She looked at him for a moment, and then colored as she looked away and resumed foraging. “...I jus’ thought how ‘e was able t’help ya catch up that day, ‘cause of th’trainin’ ya’ve been doin’. Feel like...like I owe ‘im too, an’ I ‘aven’t told ‘im yet.”

Ven paused, looking thoughtful for a moment himself before he responded. “..He’d be happy, hearin’ you say that. You should tell him.”

The idea made her look nervous, but she nodded assent.

***

As the pair returned from the woods, Kusu awaited them at the shore with a bright countenance. Peony’s bag was bulging with food, and Ven had his arms and hands full with leaves and berries.. 

“Loooks like yoooouuu both fooouunnd a lot!” he exclaimed to them happily.

“Yeah!” said Peony with a smile, opening her bag and laying out the food. As Ven laid down what he’d found, their eyes met for a moment. The spirit smiled at her, then motioned with his head and eyes a little toward Kusu. She got nervous again at this, and for now finished unloading her bag. When she finished, she shut her eyes and took a deep breath. “‘Ey Kusu,” she said, standing and looking up at the ku’nuki.

Kusu tilted his head at her. “Hmmm?”

Her paws went behind her, her whiskers twitching and her ears drooping forward as she timidly scraped at the ground with one of her feet. “..Never thought at th’ start of spring that I’d be sayin’ this, but..” She then looked up, stuttering a little with her anxiety. “Th-th’ other day, when Ven rescued me...I realized ‘e couldn’ve d-done it...without ya.” She then hopped closer to him. “So I jus’ wanted to say, thanks. Thanks f’r you r-rescuin’ me too.”

Kusu blinked, but then gave a happy hoot. “Of course!” he exclaimed. “Yoooouu’re my friend, Peony!” 

And with that, he closed the rest of the gap between them, bringing his wings wide and wrapping them around the jill, bowing his head to nuzzle the top of hers.

The jill tensed initially at the embrace, but then returned it, burying herself into the ku’nuki’s soft, white chest feathers. “I’ve missed bein’ able to be with ya both,” she said as she felt her emotions run high. “‘S been a tough several days…”

Touched by the scene, Ven drew near. “..Well, we should have more now.”

Peony brought her face out from Kusu’s feathers, looking at him with puzzlement. “Huh?”

“We’re, uh…” He looked at Kusu briefly, before his smile started to widen as he broke the news. “K’enah told us we’re done. Train again next summer.”

“..Wha? Really?” she said, her eyes widening in disbelief as she looked between the spirit and the ku’nuki. She then tensed and burst into a fit of joy. “...Yes!!” she cried, with a hug that tightened to the point that Kusu looked like his eyes bulged for a moment, while she hopped up and down. “Tha’s great! ‘M so ‘appy for y’both! Finally!!”

Both Ven and Kusu chuckled, and the spirit joined in the embrace, the hearts of all three filling to the brim.

They didn’t eat that much of the food they’d gathered, for the sharing of the news had filled all three with such happiness and desire to just go play and have fun together, that soon the three of them had gone into the shallows of Kinu Laku, splashing and laughing. It turned into a game of who could stay the driest amid all their splashing, each of them firmly determined to be the winner.

After a time, the three of them were so drenched that wading into deeper water didn’t make much difference, and soon they were swimming, laughing and splashing about.

Then, they heard a voice shout from the shore. “What’s going on here??”

The voice sounded upset, and at least Peony and Ven recognized it before they looked to the shore from whence they had come. With a stern look on her face, Tuktua stood there, who gave a snort of what they thought was annoyance.

Ven wanted to exclaim a happy greeting, but the way the guh’nuu spoke made it sound like they were in trouble for some unknown reason. “Oh! Mama Tuktua!” shouted Peony, who was sopping wet at this point. She paddled a little closer toward her, and looked at her friends, and then back at the guh’nuu with bewilderment. She didn’t know why the guh’nuu was talking to them that way. “..We were jus’..jus’ swimmin’, havin’ some fun?”

Tuktua looked unconvinced, another snort escaping her. She then looked at Ven and Kusu with a steely gaze. “Shouldn’t you two be training today?”

“We’re..we’re done,” said Ven simply, but he also sounded confused. “K’enah told us. Done for the summer.”

“A likely story,” said the guh’nuu with flowing sarcasm. She then turned that gaze on Peony again. “And you, Peony,” she scolded. “Still you *snort* continue to disregard your mother’s wishes? You know how she feels about Ven.”

Stunned, Peony said, “But...but y’think she’s wrong?”

Another snort. “She’s your _mother_ , Peony!” Tuktua exclaimed. “You’d do well to heed her words, despite what I might think!”

The three would have expected this kind of reaction from Laurel, but not Tuktua. And so, the three of them looked down in ashamed silence. Then, the guh’nuu went into a fit of snorting, until she finally looked down and shook as she burst into a fit of laughter, unable to keep up the serious act any longer.

Now the spirit, the outha and the ku’nuki looked at her with utter bafflement. And as she lifted up her head to look at them, a mischievous smile crossed her face. And before any of them could say anything, the guh’nuu broke into a full gallop toward them, and with a bellow, she leapt into the air at them.

Kusu screeched while Ven and Peony squealed in fright. All three of them were drenched anew as the guh’nuu landed in the lake among them with a monstrous splash. 

The three of them cleared the lakewater from their eyes, and upon seeing the guh’nuu among them smiling and laughing, they whooped and hollered with glee, swimming forth to meet her.

“Dooooo that again!!” shouted Kusu, spreading and shaking his wings wildly.

Much to their joy, she did do it again. They laughed and shouted happily as they all splashed and played in the water, and as she let them ride on her back as she swam about in deeper water (except for Kusu, who simply perched on her antlers). Together all four of them played, until the guh’nuu and the ku’nuki had grown a little too tired and went to the shore.

Ven and Peony, however, tarried in the deeper waters for a little longer. The two chased each other, both on and below the surface of the water. They floated idly on the surface to rest, staring at the sky as they talked, and then chased each other some more.

Tuktua had lowered herself to rest on the ground near where they had left their food, watching as the pair splashed and talked. As she did so, she then looked at them with mild confusion. 

She thought she noticed something about them, or at least about Peony. She then passed a glance at Kusu, who was nearby, grooming himself. The guh’nuu and ku’nuki’s eyes met for a moment. Then Kusu looked at Ven and Peony, and then back at Tuktua, and then shook slightly with little hoots of laughter like he had done as he and Ven left the Outhan Plains several days before. 

The guh’nuu’s eyes narrowed, and she gave a little huff with a smile, shaking her head in mild astonishment. Now she had noticed what the ku’nuki seemed to know already.

The pair soon came to shore, finally too tired to keep swimming. Peony then suggested a little game the three of them could play: they could rest while looking up at the clouds, and point out things they could see in the shapes. Kusu liked the idea. They tried to get Tuktua to join in too, but the guh’nuu politely declined, opting to get a little more rest while they played.

And so the three laid down forming a circle of sorts, their heads all near each other as they each took turns, pointing out what they found. 

Peony went first, pointing at one. “That’n there,” she said. “Looks like a...like that big acorn I carry.”

Ven and Kusu both looked where she pointed, and acknowledged as they nodded. Ven then went next, squinting for a bit before he pointed at another. “That one. Like a..like a thing of berries.”

Peony looked at him with a smirk. “Tryin’ ta make me ‘ungry again?” She then glanced at Kusu. “Arright, whadaya got, Kusu?”

The ku’nuki stared long and hard before a thoughtful answer came. “That big bunch..looks like mouuuntains I saw on the jouuurney here.”

They went around multiple times doing this, and each time it was Kusu’s turn, he seemed to put a lot of thought into his answer, as if trying to add some deep or profound effect to them. 

After several of these, it made Peony think of something she’d meant to ask. She propped herself up a little to look at him. “‘Ey Kusu, when, uh..when were y’born?”

“I hatched last summer,” he replied. “Toooo young to come here then, of course.” He then looked at them both. “Why?”

“Huh,” said Peony. “Oh, jus’ was wondrin’. We never figured out who’s oldes’,” she replied. “I guess that’s you!”

The ku’nuki shrugged his wings. “I’m the youngest of my family. Mama always…”

Something made him stop midway in his answer. He stared up in the sky, looking about for a little while, before he tried again. “She…” This time, he choked a little. And on the third try, his voice quivered. “She said…”

A soft, but mournful hoot escaped him before he stood up suddenly, and trotted off several paces away from them. Ven and Peony lifted themselves up, watching after him with dismay. Even Tuktua, resting nearby, lifted up her head as he withdrew from them.

He came to a stop, continuing to look away from them and hunching over as his shoulders twitched, making more little hoots like the first. 

Ven and Peony then stood, and they looked at each other with sadness and confusion on their faces. It was clear their ku’nuki friend was crying, but it wasn’t just that. Normally, he was always so cheerful and happy; it wasn’t like him at all, to be like this.

Peony felt the sadness more than Ven, for she thought she had unwittingly upset him somehow, and felt at fault. She went to him first, going in front of him and facing him. “Kusu? Kusu, wha’s wrong?” she asked as Ven caught up, her heart wrenching to see him this way.

The ku’nuki said nothing, hiding his face from her with his wings as he continued to lament this sorrow unknown to his friends.

Ven then came around to face him also, placing a hand upon him as Tuktua also approached, the guh’nuu keeping some paces away. “..Kusu, what is it?” the spirit asked, his heart twinging at the sight of him also.

The ku’nuki then blurted out news that he’d kept to himself for quite some time. “It’s Mama!” he exclaimed amid sobbing. “She’s missing! Missing for many days! An’ I doon’t knoooow where she’s gooone!”


	10. The Face of the Blight

The news of Kusu’s mother missing was both shocking and saddening to the whole group, and each of them did what they could to comfort the young ku’nuki. Ven first and foremost offered to take the news to K’enah, not only to initiate a search, but assist in it as well. Peony echoed the same sentiment, though with the caveat that she would have to take care to not be seen with either Kusu or Ven, or risk being in more trouble from K’enah or her mother Laurel. Tuktua stated likewise that she would also help where she could, but left the bearing of the news to Kusu and Ven.

And so, later that evening, after dropping off Peony near the clearing’s edge, Ven and Kusu flew into the clearing of the Spirit Pine, landing near his branches as they found one particular group of older spirits with whom K’enah was conversing.

“K’enah!” cried Ven, landing and quickly running to the keshka, heedless of barging into the conversation. 

“Ven,” said the keshka, looking a little surprised to see him, but also mildly annoyed. “I hope this is important.”

“It’s Kusu. His mother,” he said, pointing at the young ku’nuki who soon caught up to them. “She’s gone missing!”

The keshka looked at him sternly, and breathed a sigh. “Yes, we know. We’ve known for some time.”

“W-what??” Ven gaped at him, and Kusu’s eyes went wide. “Haven’t found her yet?”

“No, we haven’t,” said K’enah, looking increasingly annoyed over the pair’s interruption. “Not for lack of trying, however. We have been searching, but we’re spread thin between searching for her and combating the Blight.”

The younger spirit was caught off guard at the fact that the keshka already knew, stammering. “B-but..” He looked quickly at Kusu, who stared with silent, pleading distress. “L-let us help!” Ven offered quickly. “We’ll search!”

The reply from K’enah was both prompt and firm. “No.”

Both Ven and Kusu were stunned at this denial. The young ku’nuki’s beak even opened a little, aghast. But before either could respond, K’enah went further. “You two are too young for this task. Rest assured, we’re aware and doing what we can to try to find her.” He glanced at Kusu, looking a little apologetic. “But I won’t have you be part of it. If I have news, I will inform you myself.”

That wasn’t good enough for either of them. Kusu looked as though he would break down and cry. “But K’enah..” protested Ven.

The keshka quickly cut him off. “No. I _forbid_ it,” he repeated with anger showing.

Not wanting to upset the keshka further, or make a scene, Ven stood there in stunned silence before he heaved a defeated sigh and turned, his ears hanging limply. “..C’mon, Kusu,” he said, placing a hand on him in some small expression of comfort, but also to urge the ku’nuki on.

Confused and sad, Kusu turned with him, unhappy hoots escaping him in what sounded more like whimpering. The pair left the clearing in a slow walk, their hearts heavy with discouragement.

***

Peony didn’t take the news well, either. “‘S not fair!” she exclaimed angrily, picking up a rock and taking out her frustration on it by hurling it against a tree, with a force that put a noticeable dent in the bark. “Why won’ ‘e even let you help?”

“I don’t know,” said Ven with a sad shake of his head. “Only said we’re too young.”

The jill scoffed, turning to face the spirit with her paws and whiskers shaking with her flaring temper, which she unwittingly focused upon him. “‘S if that’s stopped ya before! Y’could’ve said more! Why’s ‘e even in charge anyway??”

“The Spirit Pine picked _him_ , Peony,” Ven replied, for once saying her name clearly and without accent.

“Yeah well, mebbe yer Tree made a mistake!”

The hurt look on Ven’s face told her she went too far with that remark, and immediately she felt remorse. “’M sorry, I-I..” she stammered, her anger dissipating. Now looking and sounding frustrated and emotional instead, she then gestured to Kusu, whose forlorn look had not left him. “..I mean, what’re we s’posed t’do??”

The young spirit didn’t have an answer for them, or at least not an easy one. The words Tuktua had spoken to him about K’enah led him to believe that perhaps the keshka was just trying to protect him and his friends. And while Tuktua prevented K’enah from separating Ven and Kusu, the young spirit worried that the keshka could threaten such a punishment again if they went against his wishes, not to mention the trouble that would bring Peony.

“We…need to trust him,” said Ven, his hesitation evident since it didn’t feel like it would be an acceptable answer. Then, the jill’s disrespect moved him to add, “Trust _them_. Doing what he can.”

More inclined to believe the keshka was just blowing them off, Peony’s words dripped skepticism. “Y’ believe that?”

“…I do.” And despite his ears still hanging heavy with discouragement over the whole situation, there was no uncertainty in the spirit’s belated reply.

Silence then hung over them like a thick morning fog, prompting Peony to fidget with her paws and for one of her feet to start drumming the ground. As her ears and whiskers began to twitch, she brushed her ears and face. “…Well,” she sighed, seeming to have calmed down somewhat as she looked at Kusu with concern. “Y’ believe ‘im too?”

Kusu looked up, the hornlike feather tufts on his head pricking at her address. He paused in thought, and then answered, “I think we’ll all be safer, an’ ouuuut of trouble, listening tooo him.”

The jill grumbled, and sighed again with another brush of her ears and face. “..If y’re fine with it…guess I sh’d be too.” She then muttered, “‘Much as I don’ wanna.” She then looked in the direction of the Spirit Pine, her own ears sagging a little. “...So ‘ow d’we get our minds offit?”

Ven scratched his head, and then shrugged. “Need more empty cones?” he offered.

The jill snerked. “When don’ I?”

The trio then occupied themselves with gathering empty cones from the Spirit Pine. Peony gathered the cones herself, while Ven and Kusu mostly spectated. Both the spirit and the ku’nuki actually found it entertaining, exciting even, to watch her do it without being spotted by K’enah or any other spirits who might not approve of what she was doing. In one instance, Ven and Kusu even made their presence known as a distraction, enabling the jill to gather several more in all than she had the first time Ven saw her do it. 

The next several days that they had free time together, like Peony and Kusu had done for Ven at the stream, Peony and Ven focused their efforts on Kusu, letting him choose something fun to do over their own preferences in hopes of cheering him up more. Remembering his fascination with her bag when they first met, Peony spent one afternoon showing him how she made the cordage from which it was made, using the fibers from the inner parts of fallen trees to weave together, like she had intended to do before the tekaen attack. It impressed the young ku’nuki a lot..and Ven too of course. At other times where Peony couldn’t meet with them, Ven went with him just freely flying around, doing casual exploring as well as talking about other less serious things, anything that would get their minds off of the missing mother ku’nuki.

The spirit and outha’s efforts worked...initially. But as the days wore on with no news from K’enah, Kusu’s normally cheerful disposition once again was marred with melancholy. The young ku’nuki’s interest in fun activities waned. Things he was happy to do before, he grew more indifferent about. It became harder and harder for Ven and Peony to come up with things he still took pleasure in doing. And when they would ask him what he wanted to do like they’d done before, he began to answer that he just wanted his mama back, or to go searching for her.

It was both frustrating (more for Peony) and heartwrenching (more for Ven) to see their dear feathered friend become more and more withdrawn, disinterested and even hopeless. They had even begun to worry that he was starting to resent them for continuing to respect K’enah’s wishes.

A difficult decision was looming before the spirit and the outha, one they feared would be made for them if they did not act soon. Which meant more to them: Kusu’s wishes, or K’enah’s?

And so one cool, misty morning, Peony came early to Ven’s tree home. She was surprised to find the door ajar with the rope already hanging down, for she had almost always had to throw pebbles at his door to wake the spirit. With a leap, she grabbed on the rope, heaving and grunting as she gradually made her way up. It took a moment before she had help from the other end pulling her up. Soon that familiar face emerged to greet her, smiling.

“Hey!” she grunted again, managing a smile despite still being busy with climbing up. 

“Hi Peony!” said Ven, beaming. She could tell his speech was sounding less like hers now, but she didn’t mind. “Ye’re up early!” she remarked with a grunt as Ven helped her up for the last bit onto the bough. “Oof!” She then tripped, falling forward into the spirit. He caught her, making them unexpectedly embrace briefly. She then practically shoved herself off him, her face flush deeply with embarrassment. The spirit didn’t look offended by her forceful motion; in fact, he seemed to be blushing just as much as she. It only showed differently, his face looking a little brighter than normal. 

She continued her line of thought, pretending that clumsy moment didn’t happen. “Usually have t’throw rocks at yer door. Whatcha doin’ up arready?”

The spirit looked hesitant to answer, and turned from her as he tried to look busy with tidying up his bed and other things. With his friends’ help, the home had since had some additions. A few glowing empty cones hung overhead, though only one hung lower, with the others higher up. An empty bag also hung, one that Peony had made for the winter like she had talked about the day of the tekaen attack, with a clay pot sitting by the wall. A curtain of sorts, like what was in her home now, also was up on the “window”, but it was currently draped aside to allow the morning light in.

The spirit answered with a question of his own. “You’re not this early, either?”

“Yeah…” she answered wistfully before she went to pull the rope inside. “Thought mebbe I c’d get ‘ere before Kusu..”

The mention of their friend made Ven pause, and he glanced at her from over his shoulder, his ears beginning to droop. 

“Yeah,” he replied. “...Not that fun to be around these days, is he?”

The jill looked shocked, as his words sounded more like something _she_ would say, not him. “Ven, who c’n blame ‘im?? I don’t!” Having pulled the last of the rope coil inside, she shut the door rather forcefully as she said this. She also turned the latch on it. “By now, ‘e’s pr’bly fearing th’ worst!”

He turned to face her as she walked up to him, and looked at her a little oddly as he saw she’d both closed and locked the door. Having noticed this, she added with mild embarrassment, “..Was worried ‘e might hear..”

Her talk of “fearing the worst” had struck a little chord in the spirit, for he was certain she likely knew what that felt like, when her A’ta never returned. Sharing her frustration, he then replied, “But Peony, where do we even start looking??”

“I d’no!” she exclaimed as if to try to outmatch said frustration with a little more volume. “I--wait..” She stopped, and eyed him a little suspiciously. “..Y’mean, y’ _do_ want t’go lookin’?”

“I can’t stand it anymore, Peony,” the spirit replied with exasperation, looking away to hide his face, and the emotion welling up in it. His level of speech had come a long way since he first began to learn, as evidenced by him using many words to express his sadness. “Seeing him so sad, going another day with no news, me doing nothing when I know I could do something.” He then sniffed. “Worryin’ he’s going to just disappear one day to go look for her by himself, and we never see him again.” He then choked a little. “Wondering if I’ll have to live with ‘the worst’ having done nothing, knowing I could’ve done _something_.”

He brushed his eyes with an arm. But then, he heard the jill sigh with relief. “..I thought I was g’na have to try real hard t’convince ya. That’s why I came early,” she admitted, calming down a little. When he turned to face her again, she was right in front of him, reaching as if to place a paw on him. She immediately withdrew at his turn, coloring again. She then cleared her throat, her whiskers twitching as she fidgeted with her fingers. “Righ’ now Ven, “ she concluded, “I don’ think it matters where we look. Us jus’ wantin’ t’go looking is gonna make ‘im happy, we c’n just start wi’that.”

A silence passed between them, only making the jill flush more deeply. The moment was interrupted by a sharp tapping that came to the door. “I got it!” she blurted out, her shyness getting the better of her as she bolted for the door.

She unlocked and opened the door. And as expected, Kusu was standing outside. “H’loo,” he said, though again not in his usual, cheery way. He then looked upon the jill with mild surprise. “Oh, yooouu’re already here, Peony.” He didn’t seem to notice, or at least made no comment regarding her lingering blushing as he looked past her to Ven. “An’ yooouuu’re already up,” he said, surprised even more.

“Yeah, thought I’d come wake ‘im early, “ said Peony, seeming nervous about having to explain herself to the ku’nuki.

And naturally, the question she dreaded came promptly. “What foooor?”

The jill fidgeted, her foot thumping the floor as she searched her mind for some believable lie. But there was no need, as Ven came forward and broke the truth to him. “Kusu, we...we’re gonna go look for your mama.”

The ku’nuki blinked at them both, the spirit’s words not registering at first. Then, his face lit up, and his feathers puffed as he hopped with joy, hovering briefly with a very rapid beat of his wings as he exclaimed a hoot of excitement. 

He then stopped, and settled down as he then realized the problem in what Ven said, and he looked at him questioningly. “But what abooout what K’enah said?”

Both Ven and Peony shook their heads as the spirit answered. “I know, but we’ve...we’ve been worried about ya. He doesn’t know what this has been doing to you. And he...doesn’t need to know we’re going to try anyway.”

Peony then piped up, a frown on her face and her ears going flat with worry. “W’wanted t’do something, an’ w’worried ya might fly off and look for ‘er yourself if we didn’ act.”

Kusu then wilted at this, looking down at the large bough on which they all stood now. “....Yooou’re right,” he admitted. “I was thinking about doooing that, but I was toooo afraid to try by myself. I knoooow yoooou’re just trying to obey K’enah, but….I was even starting tooo think that mattered more than….than hoooow I felt.” He looked ashamed as he began to realize how much he might have worried them or somehow made things worse, had he left. He then looked up, his eyes darting between them as his wings twitched with a sniffle. “I’m glad I’m wrong.”

Ven drew near, petting the ku’nuki on the head, and leaning forward so that his forehead touched against Kusu’s on one side. The spirit’s own fear of the worst for Kusu’s mother had led him to believe, to his own sorrow, that he could not promise they would find her. He could only wish that this gesture would speak some comfort and hope that he could not find the words to express.

Too short to mirror Ven’s gesture, Peony instead hugged the ku’nuki, burying her face in his chest feathers. Unlike Ven, the jill did find utterance. “We'll do’r best, Kusu. We're yer friends.”

Kusu only answered with whimpering hoots, though he did bring out a wing to wrap around the jill. She sniffled too, and looked up at him, hoping he had an answer to the question that came to her. “..D’you know where w’might look for ‘er?”

The owlet took a moment to regain his composure long enough to answer. “..Anywhere besides the woooods east of the Spirit Pine. We rooooost there.”

Both Ven and Peony gave little whines at this, as that still left a lot of land to search. “Are there signs we can look for, if she was near?” asked Ven.

“Fur an’ bones.”

Both the spirit and the owlet looked at Peony, both surprised that she had the answer. She went on to explain, trying to hide her disgust at what she was about to describe, for Kusu’s sake. “Mama’s said that ku’nuki don’ really chew their food. Whatev’r they don’t like ‘f what they eat, they cough it back up. Mostly fur an’ bones is what sh’ said. I’ve never seen ‘em m’self, but I b’lieve ‘er.” She had thought to also remark how gross that sounded to her, but thought better of it.

“..That’s right,” said Kusu, surprise still evident from his voice. “If we find something like that where we don’t rooooost, it might be a cluuuue tooo find her.” 

“..The woods west of the Nuu’aniruk Rise,” Ven thought aloud. “It’s a bit far, but maybe K’enah hasn’t looked that far yet?”

Still looking sad, Peony did smile a little, hope rekindling within her as she looked back up at Kusu. “We’ve got th’ whole day t’look. Once w’have somethin’ ta eat, yes?”

“Yes,” said Kusu, that familiar cheerfulness beginning to return to his face and voice. “Then we looook!” he proclaimed happily, looking upward and spreading his wings wide with renewed hope.

Ven and Peony’s eyes met, and they smiled at each other too, grateful to see and feel their feathered friend’s happy demeanor again.

They could only hope they would find the ku’nuki mother, and if they did, that they weren’t too late.

***

After their morning meal, the trio spent the day searching as they had discussed, though it took considerable time to travel to those woods suggested by Ven. When they arrived there, Kusu glided about below the canopy more slowly, allowing for him and his friends to search the trees and the ground below for any signs of some ku’nuki roosting over this way. The trio also searched along the forest floor, allowing Kusu time to rest his wings. But, despite their efforts, they found no ku’nuki, nor any signs like Peony had described.

And come the next day, they searched further west into that section of woods. Still, they found nothing. And after that, fearing they would be missed and sought after, the searching was paused for Ven to attend to more instruction at the Spirit Pine, and Peony to tend to errands at home, while Kusu remained among his own kin.

When another day came that they could spend together, Peony made the suggestion of searching the Innusik Wood further southeast from the Spirit Pine, near where they gave way to the Outhan Plains. The area might have been searched already due to it being closer, but the jill’s thought was that it being closer meant less travel time, which meant more time that could be spent actually searching. Alas, just like the first area Ven suggested, two days worth of searching there turned up nothing, and once again they had to pause their search to avoid being thought missing, or for their searching to be discovered by K’enah, or even Tuktua. It made Ven sad to think so, but he feared that the guh’nuu would not be supportive of their secret efforts, or worse, make them known to the keshka. The guh’nuu had been doing some searching of her own, but her efforts too proved fruitless. In those days that they refrained from searching, Ven and Kusu met with Tuktua in hopes of any good news. She unfortunately had none, but not wanting to duplicate efforts, Ven had taken mental note of where she had searched.

By the time another day came where the trio could search together, Kusu’s mood had deteriorated to much like it was before Ven and Peony told him they would join in the search. It was hard for them to not be weighed down by his gloom, but they (Peony in particular) still expressed their hope that all was not lost.

Taking their own as well as Tuktua’s searches into consideration, that morning found the trio making their way toward the western edge of the Innusik Wood, where it ran along near the northeastern shore of Kinu Lake before ending at the Sirmiq. As they descended beneath the canopy, there was something they all sensed almost immediately that felt different about this part of the woods. They did not know what it was, only that it made them uneasy. A wet, earthy scent of pine needles filled their nostrils. Kusu had to maneuver more erratically, for the trees were not only thicker in their leaves and branches, but closer together. This, and being more removed from the Spirit Pine, made these woods noticeably darker. There was no birdsong or calls of other animals; only the wind broke the eerie silence. 

Ven couldn’t help but wonder: when was the last time that the Light shone amid these sylvan shadows?

Peony felt the most uneasy out of the three. “..I’ve never been ‘ere before,” she remarked as they glided about, looking down. “C’n barely see the ground, it’s so dark..”

“Me either,” said both Ven and Kusu at the same time, though it was unclear which of Peony’s statements they referred to. Both, perhaps?

“Bring us down, Kusu,” said Ven after some thought. “Maybe...maybe we can see better with my own light.”

“Mm,” hummed Peony in agreement, and Kusu looked back at them and nodded, descending further.

The trio soon found a small clearing in which to land. Upon dismounting, Peony shivered, her fur standing up as she wrapped her paws around herself.. “I don’ like this place..” she said, looking up. “‘S almost like..like it turned t’night all of a sudden.” Her gaze then leveled, and she pointed ahead of them. “‘F it weren’t f’r those, anyway.”

The others looked the direction she pointed. There through the thick, tangled brush, a pillar of light broke through, a small window to the sky and the lighted world above. Ven could see bush and grass growing on the ground there, but it did not have the rich green color he was used to seeing. “..Let’s head that way,” he suggested, starting to walk there. Kusu and Peony nodded, following close behind.

Kusu blinked hard, straining to see as they looked around, weaving amid the trees and careful not to trip on any exposed roots. Something was frustrating the ku’nuki. “..L-let me lead, Ven,” he offered suddenly. “M’ eyes aren’t adjusting with yooouuu right in front of me.”

“..’M..’m havin’ a hard time, too,” admitted Peony sheepishly.

“Oh...all right,” said Ven with mild surprise, not realizing he was having that effect. He stood aside to let them pass. As they did so, Kusu suddenly hopped forward, his growing sorrow and desperation prompting him to shout into the dark woodland. “Mama? _Mama??_ ”

The cry echoed for so long, and was answered only by both Ven and Peony shushing him urgently.

Peony lowered her voice to a whisper, though it was a louder whisper because she was irritated at him. “Y’can’t do that, Kusu! We don’t want others t’know we’re out ‘ere!”

The ku’nuki turned to her, a sad and apologetic look on his face.“I knooow, I...I jus’ miss her sooooo much,” he said, fighting to control his emotions.

Peony’s own composure wavered at this. “I know,” she said, standing up high on the front of her hind feet so she could reach to give a comforting touch on the ku’nuki’s face. Her voice trembled. “We’re gonna find ‘er.” She then looked back at the spirit. “..Right, Ven?”

Ven bit his lip, and just nodded hastily, fervently hoping she spoke the truth.

“Let’s jus’ get t’that light, arright?” entreated the jill. After a long sniff, Kusu regained his bearing and bobbed his head, turning and resuming their walk. They pressed on, their steps and the wind the only sound in their ears. 

They soon reached the light, Peony squinting and shielding her eyes as she looked upward, while Kusu continued to look around, as Ven stooped to examine the bush and grass growing here.

Something was amiss about it, but the spirit wasn’t quite sure what. It didn’t seem like it was corrupted, for it did not sting to the touch. 

“..I haven’t seen anything,” sighed Kusu, who looked to the others. “What abooout yoooouu both?”

“Nothin’,” replied Peony sadly.

“I think…” hesitated Ven. “...I think it’s sick.”

Both the outha and the ku’nuki looked at him, confused. “Huh? What’s sick, Ven?” asked Peony.

“..This grass,” he said, looking and sounding as if he didn’t understand either. “The..the trees…” He stood and looked around. “It’s like they..they are suffering.” His ears began to droop.

Peony grew more uneasy. “Blighted?”

“No,” said Ven. “..I mean, I don’t think so.” He ran his fingers through the grass. “I think it would hurt me to touch if it was.”

“There,” said Kusu, pointing with a wing. He had spotted another pillar of light like this one, but it was distant. And without waiting, he started walking that direction. 

Peony and Ven watched Kusu go, looked at each other again with both their brows furrowing, before they hastened to catch up.

The silence was getting to the jill. She really wanted to say something, even just idle chatter, anything that would lift the heavy silence that had her fur and whiskers all aprickle. She only didn’t speak because she had just rebuked Kusu for doing the same, even though his voice was far more raised. 

Ven was growing increasingly on edge. He was reminded of the past winter, at a time where he traveled alone in a silence very much like this, only it was the crunch of snow, rather than that of grit and needles, that he felt and heard beneath his hooves then. But back then, he soon found he wasn’t alone, and he had to make a conscious effort to not dwell on the notion that they might not be alone now.

Kusu’s face had hardened. He had grown anxious too, but his determination and hope were greater than his fear, goading him onward toward the next pillar of light. He scanned the darkness around him, but even with his eyes being better suited for this than his friends’, he fared no better in finding any clues. 

The ku’nuki heaved a sad sigh as they reached the next pillar. “Nothing,” he said, looking behind him to the others.

Ven shook his head sadly, peering upward and shielding his eyes like Peony had at the last pillar.

“Me either,” replied Peony with a frown. “Mebbe if we--”

Her nose and whiskers then wrinkled, and she made a face. “Ugh!” she exclaimed with disgust. “Wha’s that smell?”

Ven then smelled it too, but instead of making a face, he froze. “Shh,” he hissed before either of the others spoke further, and he strained to listen for any sound. But all he could hear was his increasingly rapid breath, and his elevated pulse. 

Seeing that the spirit looked scared, the jill drew near. “What is it?” she whispered.

The smell wasn’t quite the same, but it was close enough that, for the spirit, it was unmistakable. And just like the first time, it made his stomach turn. “..It’s a kill.” 

The jill knew what he meant, and its implications. She couldn’t stop a whimper from escaping, moving right up against the spirit as she began to look around frantically.

Kusu seemed oblivious to this revelation, for something else had caught his attention. “It looooks a little lighter over that way,” he said, pointing with a wing. “Maybe a clearing?”

Ven and Peony peered past Kusu. Like the second pillar, it looked pretty far away. And now, the danger of a nearby kill made it seem all the more distant. Peony’s fear was evident, as her words began to run together in one of her fast rambles.. “W’should go. Sh’dfindotherst’look’eresowewon’tbealonewithwhatever’sin’ere--”

Kusu had paid little heed to the jill, his body slightly hunched over as he continued to look around.   
Then, he bolted fully upright with his eyes wide as something came to him that only he seemed to recognize. And without warning, a quiet sob escaped him and he broke into a run toward the clearing, flapping his wings but not taking flight.

“Kusu!!” exclaimed Ven and Peony at almost the same time, the name reverberating through the trees. “Kusu wait, don’ leave us!!” squealed the jill in alarm, and both she and Ven took off after him. 

The two ran like they were running from something as the jill’s frightened plea rippled through the woods, but their haste and the dark made their pursuit difficult. They hadn’t got far before Peony tripped on an exposed root. Ven had a hoof slip on another root not long after that. The tripping and stumbling slowed them down, but any time either of them fell, adrenaline drove them right back into a sprint, heedless of any pain. 

But it was not just the stumbling and the tripping that slowed them down. Neither of them consciously thought it, but they had both refused to leave the other lagging behind whenever one of them stumbled or fell, stopping to quickly pull each other back upright. 

Their friendship would not allow them to abandon each other, nor could either of them bear the thought of what might happen if they did.

To their relief, they soon arrived in what indeed was a clearing that, while dim, was still more illuminated than most of the woods around. And like when Ven was with Tuktua, that awful smell was a lot stronger now. Peony breathed heavily from the running, but then nearly gagged at the odor, her paws covering her nose and mouth. Ven covered his nose too, looking ahead of him. Kusu stood there with his back to them, appearing to be unaffected by the smell emanating from some large, unknown mass in front of him that was nearly as big as he was. He turned to face them, actually looking bright and happy as he triumphantly proclaimed, “A cluuuue!”

The spirit and the outha did not share his enthusiasm. Nursing an elbow that had struck the ground a little hard in one of her falls, Peony hissed with rising anger, “Don’ do that, Kusu! ‘Bout scared us both t’death!” 

And as Ven’s light brightened the scene, Peony gasped in fright. “F-f-fur an’ b-bones!” she exclaimed in a panicked stammer.

She was right. With the shape and size of a large oblong boulder, the mass before them was literally a large, dark and slimy clump of what appeared to be fur, and it was riddled with bones, some embedded within, while others protruded out. 

One of Ven’s hands went to his own neck as he swallowed hard. “..What...what _was_ it?” 

“Don’t knoooow,” said Kusu as he hopped around it, examining it more closely. He looked as though he might touch it, but he did not.

“..K..k..k-kazhna,” stuttered Peony, slowly pointing with a trembling finger at one section of the mass. There, the catlike creature’s skull partly protruded, its fangs still intact. “Thing’s easily b-bigger’n me an’ it got swallowed ‘ole anyway.”

Panic had begun to seize Peony; it was clear in her voice. She kept shaking her head at Ven, teetering back and forth as one of her feet thumped the ground. “We sh’d go. W’need t’leave. W’need t’go. Ven, I’m s-scared, w’need to go.” 

In an effort to try to calm her, the spirit placed both hands on the jill’s shoulders. The jill just kept repeating herself, her words more subdued, but gradually spoken faster as her fear forced her into another ramble. On the other hand, a glance at Kusu told the spirit that he was anxious to search further.

Ven’s gaze shifted back and forth between his friends, torn on what to do. After some quick thinking, he looked to Kusu. “Kusu, we should go, Peony’s really scared. We..we could talk to K’enah and just tell him to check this area.”

“What?” squawked Kusu, sounding as if the idea was absurd. He then saw Peony’s fear himself, and while he did feel bad for her, it did not deter him from wanting to continue. “But we’re close, I can feel it! I can’t smell very well, but I cooould smell _her_. That’s why I ran. She was here!!”

“I understand, Kusu,” said Ven, wishing he didn’t have to argue with the ku’nuki. “But that won’t matter if something finds us out here. Something is wrong with these woods, K’enah needs to know.”

Emotion was in the ku’nuki’s voice as he whined, “But we’re sooooo close..” Then, something gave him pause. “..P...Peony?”

Ven then realized that Peony had halted in her speech, and turned back to face her. 

The jill was ghastly pale, even for Ven’s light. The spirit had never seen her eyes so wide, and tears were welling in them as she stared upward. Her whole coat was bristling, and her breath, very rapid. She began to gape, and as her paws lifted to her mouth, they--and soon her whole body--shook violently. She looked as if she was screaming in pure, unadulterated terror. 

But there was no scream.

The spirit quickly looked up. At first, he couldn’t make out anything. His eyes darted around the branches that obscured the sky above.

Then, as a chilly wind blew, he saw it. As the branches above wavered with the wind, a great shadow, perched high upon a larger bough, did not waver. And from among the shafts of light piercing into the dark from above, two of them belonged to this shadow. They were not the light from above, but were the creature’s eyes. Glowing. Staring. Narrowing. Seething. Fastened upon him. Then, the shadow seemed to grow in size. And then the spirit realized: it had dropped from the bough, rushing forth to meet him.

The creature landed hard, but firmly, on the ground in front of them. As it did so, it spread its wings wide, shrouding the whole clearing in a darkness that matched the surrounding woods, the wind gust they created sending the trio reeling, almost knocking them down. Kusu fluttered into a hover, hope in his voice. “Mama..?”

The spirit just stared, gaping in shock at the sheer size of the creature. And his light revealed it indeed was a fully grown ku’nuki.

It also revealed a cruel, horrible truth. One of the adult ku’nuki’s hornlike feather tufts atop its head was missing entirely, the other withered. Its purple feathers had grown tattered, matted and ashen. The white feathers of its chest and facial disc were stained with the blood of its prey, mingled with some dark purple discharge that had dribbled from its gnarled beak down its front as it heaved with ragged breath. Its talons flexed menacingly, not having lost their deadly sharpness.

And the spirit could not tear his gaze from those eyes. Those eyes, discolored but blazing at him. Blazing with hatred he could feel. A hatred for the Light.

And he knew. It was she, Kusu’s mother.

It was she, lost to the terrible clutches of the Blight.

It was she who, in her crazed malaise, had attacked and driven out the guh’nuu herd from Nisik. 

Kusu sobbed with dismay at the awful sight and cried, “... _Mama!?_ ”

And at that, the adult leaned toward the spirit and gave a guttural, deafening screech, one that made Ven’s ears ring with pain. He cried in agony, and Peony pulled both her ears down as she screamed for real, but was drowned out by the mother owl.

Kusu then flew and hovered between his mother and Ven. The spirit’s ears still rang, his friend’s pleas a muffle he could barely understand. “Mama, no!! He’s my friend, I chose him!!”

The son winced as the mother flapped her wings forward with an angry hiss, the focused gust sending him reeling and nearly colliding with a nearby tree and knocking down Ven and Peony this time. It stamped forward toward the spirit, but before it could attack, Ven was up on a knee, stretching forth his hands at the mother.

With but a thought, the Light appeared, astonishingly bright and focused toward Kusu’s mother. The great bird screeched as she reeled back, shielding her eyes with a frayed wing. 

The spirit knew it wouldn’t deter the mother owl for long. He looked behind him and cried at his friends, “Go!! Get out of here!!”

“Mama, no!!” cried Kusu again. “Ven, NO!!” screamed Peony at the same time, and the jill practically threw herself against the spirit, clutching him tightly and trying to pull him away as she continued to scream at him. “W’re not _leavin’_ you!!” She then turned to Kusu and cried, “Kusu, help!!!”

It pained him to admit, but the young ku’nuki was convinced now; they had to flee. He swooped down and landed by Ven, positioning himself so the spirit could hop on quickly. “Ven, _hurry!_ ” he sobbed. “We have to goooo!”

The spirit still stretched forth his hands, keeping the Light shining on Kusu’s mother as Peony hurried up onto Kusu’s back. Once she was situated at the front, he then leapt on, shouting, “Go! GO!!”

And with a screech, Kusu took off, just as his corrupted mother lunged forward with a snap of her beak that narrowly missed Ven’s tail.


	11. Deep Wounds

The young ku’nuki’s takeoff was hasty and off balance. He had become so used to Ven sitting in the front that switching places with Peony felt awkward. Still, with the branches and trunks of the trees frequently grazing his chest or wings, he managed to weave his way through, flying as fast as he could toward the last pillar of light they found. For there, he knew, was a way up and out.

Behind them, his mother could be heard shrieking amid the crashing and snapping of branches as she pursued. But, her great size was her disadvantage, for the thick branches and needles hampered her own flight, as she could not maneuver through them like her son could. As Kusu pressed toward the pillar of light, her screeches seemed to become more distant.

Ven and Peony both had buried their faces into Kusu’s back, shutting their eyes tight and holding on as tight as they could, trusting their friend knew the way. Ven kept this way until he could see light flooding his shut eyes. He blinked, looked up and squinted at the bright afternoon sun. He breathed a sigh of relief. They had emerged above the canopy and were flying east, toward the Spirit Pine.

Peony had not moved, keeping her face buried. Even so, the spirit could hear her sobs and moans as the jill cried. Was it from being so traumatized by what just happened? Or was it sorrow for her friend over his mother’s terrible fate?

The thought of the latter moved the spirit to cry as well, shaking his head as his sorrow and the wind brought tears to his eyes. “I’m sorry, Kusu. I’m so sorry.”

The young ku’nuki had no words for a reply. He only wheezed in his breath, emitting hoots of despair as he looked behind him at them both.

Then, they all tensed and looked further behind as a cacophony of the trees and branches brushing, groaning, and snapping sounded among the canopy, which reeled back and forth as something appeared to be breaking through.

And with a furious screech, Kusu’s mother burst out of the trees, those hate-filled eyes blazing at Ven. In the broad daylight, the full extent of her corruption was visible: her gaunt figure, the tatter and withering of her wings and feathers, the plumage wasted away to a pasty, greyish purple, and her face and chest spattered with blood and discharge. 

It was as if she had died, and had been rotting for days. Now, she was a nightmare incarnate, flying toward and gaining on the trio.

Peony squealed in terror at the sight, and cried to both her friends, “Whadda-w’ do?!?”

“The Spirit Pine!!” shouted Ven, pointing toward the great Tree. “If we can get there first, she might not follow, and we’ll get help!!” He leaned forward toward Kusu as he shouted, “Hurry!”

Kusu nodded hastily, and as he looked ahead, he did some harsh screeching of his own, in hopes that others of his kin or of the spirits would hear his distressed cries, and respond. 

The mother ku’nuki was getting closer and closer. Even in her rotten state, she was faster, and unencumbered by riders, unlike her son. Seeing this, Kusu began to climb higher, continuing to screech in distress. 

“Kusu!!” 

The young ku’nuki’s name came as a scream from Ven and Peony at the same time, and when he looked back, he saw his mother was practically upon them. “Hooold on!!” he shouted, and he banked sharply to the right, causing his mother to miss with her talons. She soon corrected, shrieking after them as she began to close in again.

Frantically, the son kept looking behind him to gauge the rate of his mother’s approach. And now he had another problem: they were flying south, no longer toward the Spirit Pine. “Hooold tight!” he cried again. And as she came upon them again, he banked hard again, this time to the left so that they were moving east toward the Spirit Pine again. He screeched some more, desperate for someone to hear who could help. 

Peony felt helpless, racked with horror at the sight of their pursuer, and with guilt at the thought that she was only weighing her ku’nuki friend down. She wished there was something she could do…

...and then, the thought suddenly came to her that there might be. In the midst of their terror and their hasty flight, she had completely forgotten she still had her bag on her back. “Ven!” she cried. “Reach ‘n my bag!”

The spirit perked, and hurried to dig in as he stole a glance behind them. “What am I lookin’ for?”

“Pinecones!” came the reply. “Small an’ green!”

The spirit didn’t know what Peony was up to, but searched as she commanded anyway. He eventually felt his hand touch what felt like pinecones, and pulled out two. They were indeed small and green like she said, but they were also hard, even a little dense and almost scaly in appearance. He could even feel a bit of a heft to them. What would she want something like these for?

Seeing his confused look, the jill thrust one of her paws at him. “Jus’ give ‘em t’me!!” she cried. Then, seeing Kusu’s mother getting close she screamed, "Hurry!”

The spirit shoved them into her paw, and she shouted at Kusu. “Stay steady, Kusu!”

“What??” squawked Kusu in surprise like that was a crazy idea, but he obeyed anyway.

Ven turned and braced, ready to summon the Light in hopes of using it to force the mother owl to retreat. But just as she was upon them, the spirit heard Peony grunt. One of the pinecones whizzed forth from them. It deflected harmlessly off the ku’nuki mother’s beak, though it made her flinch slightly.

Then, with a sharp bark from the jill, her aim was true with the second pinecone, striking the corrupted bird directly in one of her eyes. She shrieked, reeling in pain and disoriented from the hit, affording the trio more time for Kusu to widen the gap greatly. 

Ven gaped as Kusu’s mother fell behind, and he looked at the jill with astonishment. “Peony, that was..” He didn’t quite have a word to describe, but one soon came that he’d heard Tuktua use. “..that was so clever!”

The jill laughed, looking and sounding as if she too was astonished that that actually worked. Then, she felt a little bad at the thought of having hurt her friend’s mother. She laid low on Kusu and gripped him tightly in an attempt at a hug. “Sorry, Kusu.”

Kusu didn’t respond. Instead, he gasped and shouted, “Looook!”

Far in the distance, the trio saw what looked like tiny lights emerging from the Spirit Pine and the Innusik Wood, and Kusu could make out who or what they were. “Spirits on Ku’nuki!” he exclaimed, hopeful. “They’ve heard us! An’ K’enah is with them!!” He screeched again like before to draw their attention. 

All three of them felt momentary relief, but they also knew they were not out of danger yet. This was emphasized by the Ku’nuki mother’s grating cry of rage as she gave chase once again.

And once again, she was closing in. Seeing this, Ven dug into Peony’s bag again, hoping she had more of those pinecones. He felt his fingers close upon one more, but more blind poking inside told him that was all that was left of them. Already onto what he was doing, the jill extended her paw behind her until he gave it to her, and she turned to face the corrupted bird.

As the corrupted mother came close, the jill reared back to throw again. Then, with no warning other than a squawk of surprise, Kusu suddenly banked hard, not to outmaneuver, but because with the sizzle, crackle and speed like a bolt of lightning, a spear of light zipped past them. Anticipating the pinecone, the corrupted bird banked the opposite way, inadvertently dodging the spear as well.

“ _Cones!!_ ” exclaimed the jill, and with a loud squeal, the sudden banking caused her to lose balance and fall to the side, dropping the pinecone and nearly falling off Kusu. She would have fallen, had Ven not barely caught her by her bag. Thrown off balance by the shifting of weight, Kusu tried to correct by leaning the opposite direction. It worked, enabling the jill to right herself with some help from Ven. Once she was situated again, she shouted angrily, “What was that??”

“They threw somethin’ at us!” shouted Kusu.

“K’enah!” exclaimed Ven. “I think he meant that for--”

“VEN!” screamed Peony, pointing behind them. Kusu’s maneuver and correction had slowed the trio down significantly, allowing the corrupted mother ku’nuki to close the gap faster than he could regain speed. And thus, she was upon them again.

The spirit didn’t need to look first. With one swift, fluid motion, the Light burst forth from his hands as he turned, once again stretching forth both hands behind him.

With an angry screech, Kusu’s mother recoiled again at the Light, averting her eyes and banking away briefly. But despite Ven’s sustained effort, she began to press toward them again.

By then, K’enah and the other spirits had got close enough, and sounds of whistling filled the air as a volley of arrows of light flew past the trio. Several missed, but some grazed the corrupted ku’nuki, and another embedded itself in one of her wings while another of K’enah’s spears missed again. The group scattered as they flew past the trio and the mother Ku’nuki, but soon swooped around to regroup. 

The Ku’nuki mother gave another shriek of anger at her attackers, seeming to shrug off the pain of the one arrow that landed. But instead of turning on the other spirits, she began climbing higher and higher into the air, presumably to evade more arrows and spears.

The trio had almost reached the Spirit Pine, but now, Kusu was tired, breathing heavily. And though he flew on, desperate to reach the Spirit Pine, his velocity had waned, his ability to maneuver weakened.

Peony had noticed his fatigue. “We’re almos’ there Kusu, jus’ keep it up!” she encouraged.

Ven had stopped shining the Light from his hands. He peered upward, grunting as he squinted and shielded his eyes. “She went high! The sun, I can’t see her!” Peony looked up too, but she could not see their pursuer either. 

Kusu perceived what was about to happen, and it put him in a panic. “She’s diving!” he cried. With such a tactic, the mother would bear down on them hard and fast, leaving little to no time for the son to react in his fatigued state, or for his friends to somehow counter with the sun in their eyes. 

He did the only thing he could think of amid his panic. “Hooolld on. Jus’ hooooold ooon!!” he cried.

Ven could not see past Peony to see Kusu’s nonverbal cues to discern his plan, and Peony did not even know what to look for. “Kusu, what’re y’doing?” she cried frantically. “Kuusuuuuuu!!”

Their feathered friend suddenly dropped into a dive of his own, bringing his wings in as he flew, almost falling, down at a steep angle. The wind rushed past them faster than ever, the whistling effect it had in Ven and Peony’s ears making it almost impossible to hear anything else, not even their own squeals of fright as they clung for dear life.

With his eyes watering profusely, Ven looked behind them. Sure enough, the shadow of Kusu’s mother had fallen upon them as she dove at them fast.

“Hooold oonn!” cried Kusu again.

Her silhouette grew, as she got closer and closer.

“Hoooold on!”

Closer. Now, the canopy of the Innusik Wood was rushing to meet them swiftly.

“Hoooold!”

Then, as his mother was almost upon them, Kusu leveled out, hurtling forward with astonishing speed. And just as the corrupted bird brought her vicious talons forward to close on her prey, Ven and Peony screamed as Kusu screeched loudly. 

The son suddenly pitched sharply upward, and spread his wings wide. His wings caught the wind like a sail, forcing the breath out of both Ven and Peony’s lungs as Kusu’s maneuver caused the trio to brake suddenly in the air while his mother careened past below them, overshooting her attack. 

Now they were behind her, but not for long. She swooped around, those smoldering, hateful eyes glaring at Ven once again. 

Tired from the vicelike grip he had on Kusu and from his summoning of the Light, Ven mentally seemed to lose himself as he gazed deep into those eyes. They--he, Peony and Kusu--had done everything they could to evade this horror, but it would not be enough. The end for them seemed inevitable to him now.

Time seemed to slow down as the corrupted mother came at them. Then, suddenly, she screeched in pain as K’enah’s light spear finally found its mark. With that same sizzle, crackle and speed, it passed straight through her right wing near the base and exited out the back with a tainted, bloody explosion of down. The sheer force of it struck her into a spin.

Ven and Peony’s mouths both fell open. “ ** _MAMA!!_** ” screamed Kusu as his mother flopped and plummeted, vanishing into the Innusik Wood below.

Then, without a word to them, K’enah and the other spirits with him flew past them, descending after her into the wood below. Each of the trio knew what was going to happen next. If Kusu’s mother was not slain, K’enah and his company would undoubtedly make sure she was.

“Noooo, _wait!! Stop!! Pleaase!_ ” shrieked Kusu as he tiredly flew into the canopy after them.

***

Kusu’s cries of distress, along with the ensuing commotion culminating in Kusu’s mother crashing in a clearing not far from where the woods gave way to the Spirit Pine, drew spirits, ku’nuki and even outha to the frightful scene. By the time the trio had caught up, a sizable gathering of them were already watching with fear, amazement and sorrow at the sight of the fallen ku’nuki, chattering amongst themselves while spirit guards kept them back a safe distance as K’enah, having already dismounted, cautiously approached. As the son’s eyes fell upon his fallen mother and K’enah, he let out a shriek of horror. “Noo, wait!! That’s my mama, don’t kill her!!”

Ven and Peony joined him in his pleas. “K’enah, stop!” cried Ven. 

“Wait!! Leave ‘er alone!” shouted the jill.

They had made the mistake of landing behind the crowd, for as they tried to force their way through to get to K’enah, Kusu was set upon by his own kin, restraining him from advancing or taking flight, for his safety. This only pushed him into a panic again. “STOP!!” he screeched. “DON’T KILL HER! MAMA!!” Similarly, other spirits began restraining Ven and Peony as well. “No!” screamed the jill as she was held back and got separated from Ven. “Leggo ‘f me! Ven, help!!”

Ven knew K’enah intended to kill Kusu’s mother to stop any further spread of the Blight. But even so, he couldn’t bear the thought of the keshka doing that with Kusu witnessing. And an awful premonition came to him: what would that do to his feathered friend? Witnessing her death at K’enah’s hands could create something worse than the Blight: a bitter child, with only a desire for vengeance to fill the void her death would leave behind.

The spirit had to get to K’enah. He had to stop the keshka. But his own kin had firm grips on him, trying to lead him away from the scene. “Nooo!” he shouted, trying to get them off him by shoving off the ground with his hooves, to no avail. “K’enah, don’t do it! That’s his mother, stop!!” 

The keshka ignored Ven and his friends’ cries. He continued to slowly advance on the fallen ku’nuki, who appeared as though they were dying, drawing slow, ragged breaths.

Kusu was hysterical, his voice hoarse with his pleading and crazed screeching. “DON’T DOOOO IT! MAMA!! _MAMAAA!!!_ ”

The young ku’nuki’s screaming forced tears from Ven’s eyes. “Let. Go. Of. Me!!!” He then wrenched himself free from those restraining him. He then leapt high, and swung his arm to the branches in front of and above him. The Light whipped out from his arm, wrapping around one of the sturdier branches, allowing him to swing high over the crowd and the guards. The instant he landed, he sprinted forward, moving to block the keshka’s path with hands outstretched and pleading. “K’enah, wait! Don’t do this, she’s Kusu’s mother!!”

The keshka’s face hardened and went hot with anger. “And the greatest single threat to this land! Even if you won’t listen to me Ven, you know what must be done to ensure our peace and safety! _Stand aside!_ ”

“No,” Ven said, shaking his head vigorously and continuing to stand in the way. “There must be another way. You don’t know what this will do to him, watching you kill her!!”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take, Ven!” exclaimed the keshka with a seething glare as he then pointed at him. “A risk that your own disobedience brought here!”

The young spirit looked past the keshka, past the crowd. The foliage of the trees then parted as a winded Tuktua came galloping to the scene. His eyes met hers as she skidded to a halt, and she gaped at the scene. Kusu then saw he was there with K’enah, begging and screaming at him, “VEN, DON’T LET HIM! PLEASE!!”

Ven’s eyes went back to the keshka as he argued back, his voice shaking. “We had no choice, K’enah!! If we did nothing--”

The keshka’s gaze widened and went up, at which point Ven realized a grave mistake: he had turned his back on the corrupted Ku’nuki. 

He turned in time to see she was upon him, and squealed as she seized him in her sharp talons. She gave a deafening screech at him, scowling with her disfigured face and those blazing, hateful eyes.

But the young spirit did not return the same look. There was only pity in his eyes, even as she squeezed mercilessly. Even as he screamed in pain while the mother ku’nuki’s talons drove deep into his body.

His friends--all three of them--screamed his name in sheer horror. And then, Kusu’s corrupted mother cruelly stomped him on the ground. Just when she looked like she was going to stomp him again, she staggered backward with a gurgle as another of K’enah’s spears went clean through her ribs and out the back, and she collapsed. 

K’enah was furious. So much in fact, that he stormed right past Ven, ignoring others crying after or begging for someone to help the fallen spirit. The keshka was intent on finishing the job he’d started before Ven interfered.

But unexpectedly, he tripped and fell. Something had caught one of his legs. He turned to look, and found that Ven had grabbed his leg. The young spirit had a distant look in his eyes and, gasping for air, managed to exhale in a pained whisper, “Nnnoooo, pleeeaase..”

“You young _fool!_ ” growled the keshka, getting back up. With no regard for the younger spirit’s grievous injuries, K’enah forcefully grabbed Ven with both hands and hauled him upright. The young spirit had a deep puncture wound on the right side of his chest, another on his left side, and two in his back. His fur was wet with a pale blue, almost white liquid had a faint glow of its own as it bled heavily from his wounds. As he coughed and labored to breathe, the same fluid dribbled from his lips, staining his teeth and mouth. His light had dimmed, and he had a confused look in his eyes, numb with shock.

“You want to defend Nisik??” grated K’enah. “To prove yourself, to show everyone who you are??” He then summoned another spear of light, slamming the butt of it hard into the ground with a thunder-like ‘boom’. He then thrust it into Ven’s hands for him to take. “Then _you_ do it!! You want to save her? Then _end her suffering, for her own good and the good of all of Nisik!!_ ”

Jarred from his daze as K’enah let go of him, Ven had to lean on the spear with both hands to even stay on his trembling hooves. His head lolled toward the onlookers. 

Tuktua was speechless with shock, not only at his injuries but at this terrible burden the keshka was forcing upon him.

Peony was both aghast and livid, screaming at K’enah as she continued to struggle against those holding her back. “You heartless, flop-eared BULLY!! Lemme go!!” Then she screamed at her spirit friend. “Ven, DON’ DO IT!!!”

And Kusu only continued to screech, screaming, begging at the top of his lungs. “VEN, DOOON’T! DOOOOON’T!!”

The young spirit did not answer, only fighting to stay upright, fighting to breathe as he coughed and hacked. Then, he slowly turned toward Kusu’s mother, sheer willpower and determination urging him on and keeping him on his hooves. He mentally shut out the cries of his friends, tears mingling with his blood as he leaned on the spear, quivering with each step he took past K’enah toward the fallen ku’nuki. She had gone almost completely still, her own breaths slowing to a labored rattle. 

Then, something strange began to happen. The young spirit’s glow began to return, and then exceeded his natural luminance. And as this happened, he slowly began to stand more upright, relying less on the spear for support. His step grew more purposeful, and his breath became deeper and less labored.

By the time he reached Kusu’s mother, Ven was far brighter than his usual self, and his heavy breaths sounded fatigued, rather than pained. He turned to look at his friends sadly. They, along with everyone else except K’enah were speechless with astonishment at what they were seeing.

His wounds and the blood had disappeared, and he stood tall, with a brightness rivaling the Light vessel of the Spirit Pine. He then looked at K’enah, and his face hardened, wringing more tears from his eyes before he then cast the spear aside. And before the keshka could say a word, Ven turned and, bowing his head and shutting his eyes, planted both his hands against the corrupted ku’nuki’s body. 

Moved with compassion for the great bird, Ven wept, falling to his knees but keeping his hands on Kusu’s mother. All he could think about was that night he tossed and turned, before his conversation with the Spirit Pine. 

The question came to him again: would he keep that secret, if it meant letting another die?

His heart, rent with anguish for Kusu’s sake, just as it was rent for Peony, just as it was rent for another bird in that winter past, already knew the answer.

The mother Ku’nuki began to glow herself, and then was engulfed in that gentle blue flame. But what followed was something that besides Ven, only two souls of that whole gathering had been privileged to see before. The corruption of the Blight began to burn away, rising from Kusu’s mother as harmless, flaky ashes with a fiery blue glow. 

Kusu’s mother, however, did not burn away. Her grave wounds closed. The blood vanished. Her twisted limbs and face returned to their proper, natural form. And like flowers blooming open in the summer sun, her tattered feathers grew and spread into a thick, healthy plumage.

And a beautiful spectacle unfolded before the eyes of all who were there. As the glowing ashes rose, a soft breeze carried them over the crowd. Then, as their glow began to fade, they fell everywhere upon the scene like a gentle new snow, disappearing as they landed.

The emotions of those two souls were too strong for words. For Tuktua, the falling ashes were like falling stars, only they were right before her, and in broad daylight dimmed only a little by the canopy overhead. She had witnessed this display once before, ever so long ago, when the Spirit Pine healed her along with a precious few others. And just like it did then, it made her cry.

As the ashes fell, those who had been restraining Ven’s friends had loosened their grips. The other soul, Peony, only vaguely recalled the sight because of her mind being clouded at the time that Ven healed her. Now, that memory was thrust to the forefront of her mind in vivid detail as she witnessed it anew. This, along with the sight of Kusu’s mother mending left her trembling and weeping also, covering her mouth with both paws.

The spectacle had calmed even Kusu, who watched the ashes fall with reverence and amazement. But, like everyone else other than Tuktua and Peony, he did not understand what had actually happened. As the last of the ashes fell, his eyes fell upon Ven and his mother. The spirit’s brightness had subsided, reverting to his natural glow as he labored through his exhaustion to stand back up, slowly turning to face and walk toward the gathering. Then, the glow subsided from the mother, and the son gaped in disbelief. 

There was no withering or decay in the mother ku’nuki’s figure. Her feathers were full, rich and vibrant in purple. 

She was healed, and free of the Blight. 

Then, as if waking from sleep, she stirred and opened her bright yellow eyes, the black pupils fluctuating in sync. “Nnnhh..” she moaned, breathing deep and slowly standing. She looked confused, also not seeming to understand where she was, or what had happened. “Where..?”

“M..Mama??” choked Kusu. Her son then leapt into the air, fluttering forward and landing by Ven, bounding the last few paces to meet his mother. He then flapped his wings and cried, “Mama, it’s me! Kuuusuu!!”

The mother looked down, recognition and relief showing in her face as she lowered herself and brought her wings around her son, pulling him close. “Kuuusuu….Kuuusuuu, my child..” She was unable to speak any further, overcome with emotion herself as she embraced her son.

At this, the silence and speechlessness was broken as the rest of the Ku’nuki present erupted into elated whoops and hoots, bounding and flying forward past Ven and swarming the mother and son. They had never seen nor heard of anything like this ever happening before. All of them shared in Kusu’s wonder and joy.

Ven was completely ignored by them all, but he actually did not mind. Looking back and glimpsing their joy, he smiled and wiped his eyes, happy that his effort had succeeded. But even more than that, he was so happy for his friend Kusu.

He turned back to the remaining crowd. K’enah was at the front of them, and he looked beside himself with anger, stomping forward at him as he hissed, “What. Have. You. _Done??_ ”

Ven wilted, completely taken aback by the keshka’s harsh tone and scowling. He then looked past K’enah, and saw that the rest of the crowd, except for his friends, either looked upon him as if they were afraid, or they whispered among themselves, casting judging looks at him.

His smaller ears then became agitated as the spirits’ voices flooded his mind again like they had that day at the Spirit Pine. The words were filled with either fear, condescension, or both.

“What _are_ you?”

“Don’t come near me.”

“He just wants _all_ the attention.”

“Thinks he’s better than the rest of us.”

“Disobeying _again_ …”

“You deserve whatever punishment K’enah has in store for you.”

Even some of the outha shared this sentiment, resentful that one of their most dangerous predators had been spared of death. Unlike the spirits, however, their words were audible.

“He _saved_ the ku’nuki??” shouted one of them.

“Woulda been better off _dead!_ ” exclaimed another.

“Guess _they’re_ more important’n we are!” scoffed a third.

Those outha who had spoken up, as well as a few others, looked at Ven with only disgust on their faces, before they went their way. 

The young spirit could not understand. That he disobeyed both K’enah and the Spirit Pine in this act meant little to him. For, like he had felt about his actions at the Sirmiq, there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that he had done the right thing. Why could they not see that? His face crumpled as those awful looks from K’enah and the others, along with those terrible, callous words in his ears and mind emotionally ripped him apart inside.

Gripping his smaller ears with both hands as if in pain, he looked to Tuktua, and then to Peony. Both were speechless at the spoken words of K’enah and the other outha, and they cast their eyes about to see those same looks that he saw. In their bewilderment, both hesitated to speak up for their friend. 

And they hesitated too long for Ven. He then looked at K’enah, and the crowd again, his once-happy tears now coursing down his cheeks out of anger and anguish. His hands then fell to his sides, tightening into fists as he breathed ragged.

“Why..?” he sobbed to K’enah and the crowd. Then, he screamed hoarsely, “ _WHY DO YOU LOOK AT ME THAT WAY?!?_ ”

And before any could reply, the young spirit let out a strangled sob as he broke down, stumbling and tripping from exhaustion as he ran away crying, into the Innusik Wood and away from the Spirit Pine. 

Tuktua thought her heart would split apart as she watched Ven run off. The guh’nuu shook in her whole frame, both anguished and incensed. Her anger was for the crowd, but also for herself, having balked at her chance to defend Ven until it was too late. She looked upon the spirits and outha, fighting hard to suppress the urge to rebuke, even berate them for saying such terrible things. Instead, she only bit her lip, and stormed off in a different direction.

Peony had never felt so ashamed in all her life. Her friend’s devastated visage would not leave her mind. And while she might not have meant to do it, Tuktua’s harsh, scornful look had fallen upon the jill before she departed.

And in the jill’s mind, she deserved that look, every whit, for in a moment of weakness at a critical time, she had chosen not to stand with her best friend.

K’enah stood silently, actually stung by the young spirit’s parting words. And as he looked over the remaining crowd like Tuktua, he too caught her look before she left, and he began to realize the pain his anger had wrought. And with that, his heart began to twinge with the pangs of remorse.

The Ku’nuki were so carried away in their joy, that they were completely oblivious to what had just taken place. At that moment, they returned to the rest of the gathering, Kusu’s mother leading them with her son at her side.

She looked around, appearing confused, before her eyes then fell upon K’enah. “They saved me,” said the ku’nuki mother. Then frowning with disappointment as K’enah was not whom she sought, she looked around, her son doing the same with his brow furrowing out of worry. “Where are they?” she asked. “Where is the one whooooo has done this?”

K’enah looked down, and had no answer. A brief, awkward silence hung in the air, before it was shattered by the miserable wails of Peony.


	12. Feast and Farewells

Confused and sad, Kusu recognized the cries and fluttered over to the source, alighting by Peony. The young jill laid low, covering her face and crying into the ground. “Peony, what..” He cast his eyes about the spirits present and, not seeing their dear friend among them, looked back at her. “..what happened?” His own voice started to break. “Where is he, where’s Ven?”

The jill just shook her head, saying nothing. She stood trembling and, not caring if her mother found out, buried her tearstained face into her ku’nuki friend’s chest feathers, and wept anew.

Still not knowing what had taken place, Kusu simply bowed his head and closed his eyes as he brought his wings around Peony. His wings even rubbed her back slightly in an attempt to comfort her. Then, remembering how exhausted Ven looked after the miraculous healing, the unthinkable came to his mind. “..Did...did he die?”

The jill shook her head between sobs, feeling as though she was trying to bury her face even more deeply in Kusu’s feathers to muffle her cries.

“I...I dooon’t understand,” said Kusu. As he said this, the feather tufts on his head pricked as he picked up the sound of myriad steps. He looked up and saw that to the east of them, a light shone brightly through the trees. The multitude, also seeing this, had a look in their eyes as if the light called to them, and slowly they began to leave the scene, heading toward that light. Even Kusu’s mother wordlessly followed, and the younger Ku’nuki who were present followed her.

Only Kusu and Peony lingered. It was as though they were the only ones who did not know what was happening. He stared at the light himself for a time before he tried to rouse his friend from her grieving. “...Peony. Peony, looook.”

With a loud sniff, the jill lifted her head and looked in the direction of the light. Her weeping had made it difficult for her to speak. “Th...Th’ s..Spirit Pine,” she stammered. For a time, she too had a distant look, her eyes glistening with tears that still fell from them.

Then, they heard the familiar hoofsteps of another, and turned to see Tuktua approaching them. They could tell from her eyes and her sad countenance that she too had been weeping, and the light of the Tree had drawn her attention much like it had the others. Rather than go straight to the Tree, however, she instead chose to rejoin the young spirit’s friends. 

“Mama Tuktua, why?” sobbed Peony before she bounded over to her, the guh’nuu lowering her head and letting Peony hug her. “Why d’they hate ‘im??” cried the jill.

Hate was too easy of an explanation, and while it might seem a logical one to a young mind, Tuktua did not feel it was the right one. But how to explain it? The guh’nuu, wise as she was, had to ponder carefully. It didn’t help that she too was fighting to control her emotions.

“...Peony, you know that game you three have played, where you point to the clouds and say what you think they look like?” the guh’nuu asked.

Peony sniffed loudly again. “Yeah, but wha’s that got t’do with anythin’?”

The guh’nuu continued. “If I told you what a cloud looked like to me, and you could see it, would it look like anything else to you?”

“...N..no?” said Peony, her shaky tone of voice and her face showing that she still didn’t know what Tuktua was getting at.

Kusu, however, seemed to understand as he joined them. “We woooould only see...what yoooouu see,” he observed.

The guh’nuu looked to Kusu and gave a solemn nod. “Exactly, Kusu.” She then looked between both the young ones. “Ven’s kind do not hate him. They only see what K’enah, intentionally or not, has taught them to see: a reckless spirit who has repeatedly disobeyed. But we knew him first. Each of us knows his kindness. His bravery. His _incredible_ gift.

“If we want him back..” Her voice began to tremble again as she spoke more particularly to Peony. “If we want to make amends..then we must stand with him. He must know how we see him.”

The jill and the ku’nuki bobbed their heads sadly, both pondering on the guh’nuu’s words. Peony, in particular, looked very thoughtful at this.

Tuktua then lifted her head, looking toward the light that had drawn the others.

“The Spirit Pine. He calls now,” she said. “He calls to us. He does this every summer with…” She then breathed a shaky sigh. “..With each time the Blight is vanquished.” Then, she lowered her head again, as if offering for Peony to ride on her back. “Come. Let us go to him and hear his words.”

Neither of the young ones had ever heard the Spirit Pine speak, and so the thought made them both a little nervous. Even so, Peony accepted the guh’nuu’s offer, climbing up and seating herself at the base of Tuktua’s neck--where Ven often would sit--while Kusu fluttered up and perched closer to the guh’nuu’s backside.

And in this manner, the three of them came into the clearing where the Spirit Pine stood. None had noticed their approach, for everyone--spirit, outha and Ku’nuki alike--was captivated by the Tree. His light was almost too bright to look at, with a humming and a throb that filled both the scene and the soul with calm. Peony could feel the vibrations in her whole body, and wondered if Tuktua and Kusu did too.

And then he spoke, his deep, breathy voice reverberating all around. The jill felt all her fur stand up, and she could see a similar effect on Tuktua. A quick glance at Kusu showed his feathers puffed as well.

“Summer wanes in Nisik..” breathed the great Tree. “And at last, with it, so does the Blight. I can feel its taint fading, its hold on the soil giving way before my roots.”

Then, there was that rare trace of an emotion in his words: of sadness. “Yet..hearts are broken. Others fester with enmity. There ought to be joy, for one thought to be hopelessly lost to the Blight is found, whole again.

“And like her, I too ask, where is the one who has done this? Why does he not stand among you, if he has not fallen?”

The great Tree’s question was met with silence, even from K’enah. “Behold, I answer for you,” said the Spirit Pine. 

It was not a common occurrence for the Tree to speak such that all could hear. It was even less common in any such occurrence for any kind of tone or emotion to be in his words. Whenever he did speak, he sounded as though he were fending off or waking from sleep. Yet now, not only did he speak clearly, he sounded..disappointed, even accusing, which only made the weight of the words which followed, all the greater.

“Because you have wounded him more deeply than the Blight ever could.”

The words pierced all, more deeply than even the harshest winds of Nisik’s bitterly cold winters. They were heard in ears and minds alike, even among the outha and Ku’nuki. He then put forth another rhetorical question.

“How is it that my child is feared and reviled by his own? That, save for a precious few, only the winged allies of Nisik accept him?”  
His tone was then firm, and direct.

“Cast aside your pride. Give place for him as you would for any of my children. When he returns, _then_ can preparations for the Autumn Feast begin. Now, _go. Find him_.”

The humming and pulsing of the Tree’s light then faded, until the Tree had returned to his normal brilliance. The young spirit’s friends then saw how the eyes of all around then turned upon K’enah, who actually looked sad, but also humbled by the Tree’s rebuke. The keshka then beckoned with a hand to the spirits and outha near him, speaking words to them that Ven’s friends could not hear. Those surrounding the keshka then began to disperse, with others taking their place as he continued to give instructions. Tuktua, Peony and Kusu all began to look at each other with worry, unsure what K’enah might be directing to do, or what role they would serve.

As another group dispersed, a path was cleared for K’enah such that he had a clear view of Tuktua, Peony and Kusu. With purpose in his step, the keshka made his way toward them, but he slowed as he came close to them. Silence passed between them for a moment, but it was clear by the droop of K’enah’s ears and the sad expression on his face, that his anger was gone.

His eyes went to the ground as he then hesitantly spoke with contrition. “I...I know I don’t deserve your help.”

He then looked up at them, his eyes going between Tuktua, Peony and Kusu each. “..but..you are his friends. Do you know of any place he might flee to?”

***

Despite the Spirit Pine’s urgent command, Ven was nowhere to be found. The only obvious place his friends knew of that he might go to was his tree home. And though it was expected, it still pained his friends to find that he did not return there. With that, they had no idea where their dear friend had run off to. And to make matters worse, clouds blanketed the land and forest of Nisik that evening, bringing a rain and mist that made searching more difficult.

That same rain and mist also brought a cold touch, a solemn reminder of what was coming. Night had returned to the course of the sky, and it would only grow longer and darker with each passing day. The leaves of the trees had begun their turn from green to gold. True to the Spirit Pine’s word, summer was indeed waning. Autumn would be upon Nisik soon, and with its turn would come the time for many to leave, or sleep.

That time weighed heavy on K’enah’s mind. Still mentally reeling from Ven’s parting words and the Spirit Pine’s chastening, the keshka continued search efforts through the night and into the following day, with no signs of his younger kin. The longer the searches proved fruitless, the more he felt responsible for Ven’s disappearance, and the more that fears of the worst threatened to smother whatever hope or joy was left to be had in another summer ending in victory against the Blight. 

It was a victory that, the more he thought on it, the more he realized he owed it to Ven, and not just for the miracle of Kusu’s mother. Were it not for Ven’s actions during the past winter, a far darker summer would have fallen upon Nisik.

Peony and Tuktua both were heartbroken. They too felt responsible for their spirit friend’s disappearance, but in a different way than K’enah did. In their minds, their friend fled because he stood alone in the face of overwhelming rejection. Alone, when he didn’t have to be, and should not have been. 

To a lesser extent, Kusu felt this as well. Like the rest of his kind, he was so caught up in the joy of his mother’s healing that he had not taken any thought of his spirit friend, until it was too late. His guilt was that he ought to have been there for Ven too, but was not. Or, so he told himself.

This time, however, not just Tuktua, but also Peony and Kusu were allowed to join the search. As a token of repentance and in an attempt to regain some trust, K’enah explicitly gave permission for the younger pair to help. Tuktua was sure they would have searched even without his consent, even if he had gone so far as to forbid them, but nevertheless, the gesture was not lost on her. She knew Peony well enough that it would take time for the jill to come around and be more accepting, but for now, the guh’nuu felt no need to press the matter. Finding Ven was the priority.

Their dismay, their worry and sadness only grew as another day--another step closer to autumn--passed without any signs of their spirit friend.

***

The next morning was cool, and wet. The sun had risen over the mountains overlooking Nisik, but a thick fog had shrouded the majority of the valley. It was mostly clear, but for most of the inhabitants of Nisik, it was as though the clouds had chosen to pause their journey in the sky, to settle and rest upon the valley. Only the mountains and the Spirit Pine stood above the heavy mist. And every so often, the light of Naku’s tree glimmered through the gray veil, from its place near the summit of the Broken Tooth.

And then, some distance below that, another light shone through as it slowly wended its way up the mountainside.

Ven was wet from the rain and fog, his fur disheveled, and his hands and hooves caked with mud. The spirit had fled by day, but by night, he stopped near the western edge of the Innusik Wood, and there hid in a shallow burrow he had dug himself and covered with fallen leaves. Then, when morning came, he ran all day, hampered by the rain and the mud it created, past the hills of the Nuu’aniruk Rise along the shore of Kinu Lake. Then, as night came again, he reached the western woods where he again took shelter, this time in a small cave he had discovered.  
He had deliberately used places underground to rest, to hide his light, for he did not want to be found. Not by K’enah, not by some other spirit or outha, no, not even by his friends. At first, he had wondered if anyone was even looking for him, but with how angry K’enah had been with him, he thought that the keshka might search for him so he could be punished for his disobedience.

And he felt the same way about even the Spirit Pine. Though he felt strongly that he had done the right thing in healing Kusu’s mother, the spirit knew he had also openly disobeyed the Tree’s command to keep this power of his a secret. And if K’enah was any indication, Ven was afraid the Tree was angry with him as well.

Fear of punishment was not what really drove him to flee and to hide, however. The awful rejection he had faced had brought those feelings of doubt in himself again. But this time, there was more. Strange, darker thoughts had come to him. He felt..unwanted, even unneeded. He had even begun to question those strong feelings he had once had about being a part of this land.

Did he really belong here in Nisik? The more he thought on it, the more those cutting words and those fearful or condescending looks told him...that he did not.

And so, his journey had brought him to the Broken Tooth, with a twofold purpose for his ascent. The first was to visit Naku’s tree, to somehow convey how he felt he had done enough for the land, to tell them he would no longer be needed, and to bid farewell. The second was to look over the land one more time, and from there, search for some way that led out.

The fog of that morning troubled him, for he feared that its cold, wet shroud would obscure any possible paths he could take away from here. Still, he hoped it would lift as the day went on, or at least would thin out as he climbed.

As he continued up and the air gradually began to thin with the elevation, fatigue began to weigh him down all the more. His step had slowed to more of a stumble. Hunger deepened the fatigue even further, making his limbs feel weak and shaky. Yet, he pressed on, for he could see the faint light of Naku’s tree shining above in the fog. He knew he was close.

Then, unexpectedly, he failed to see a rock protruding on the path until one of his hooves caught on it. The spirit fell flat, knocking the wind out of him with a pained whine. His head also struck the rocky ground, sending him into a daze. Propping himself on his arms, he looked around as he tried to get up, but his vision had begun to blur and spin. Feeling like he would be ill, he laid back down to try to get the spinning to stop.

It did not stop. Instead, his vision went dark, and the spirit slipped into unconsciousness. As he went limp, the wind picked up, and the sun began to break through. At this height, the fog finally began to lower and disperse. And as it did so, the Spirit Pine became visible, far in the distance.

The spirit grumbled and whined as he came to, slowly sitting up. He did not know how long it had been, but he actually felt better, less fatigued or in pain than he expected to feel. He shook his head to dispel the lingering muddle, and then looked ahead, seeing the Spirit Pine in the distance. 

He then blinked and stared in confusion. The great Tree’s light was bright and shimmering, like some distorted reflection off of water. That shimmering then slowly began to take form, like that of some brilliant thing or being, slowly walking toward him. Coming from the Spirit Pine, it looked as big as the Tree itself. 

Then came that familiar deep, breathy voice that he knew, sounding in his ears and in his mind. “My child, there you are!” the voice exclaimed, sounding relieved.

Ven squeaked in fright, scrambling upright and practically diving behind a boulder that lay aside the path. He curled up, trying in vain to cover up all his ears with both hands as he shook and whimpered with dread.

“Why are you afraid?” asked the Tree, sounding puzzled. Nothing Ven could do with his ears could keep him from hearing the Tree’s question one way or another. The young spirit did not answer, only continuing to whimper.

“Ven, I know what you did, but I am not angry with you.”

Again, Ven could not stop the words from being heard, but he ceased trembling at this. “..You’re not?” he asked, confused as he slowly turned and stood to peer from behind the boulder.

He then gasped at what he saw. The shimmering light from before was still before him, and at first still looked huge, but as he squinted his eyes, he realized that they were not large at all; they only appeared so at a glance because the light shone in line with the Spirit Pine, when in reality it was right before him now, on the path. But what made him breathe sharply was the sight of the form the light had taken. It was a spirit, appearing taller and more matured than he, but otherwise not that different in appearance from himself. Their form was also translucent, but not so much so that the younger spirit could not discern his features. 

There was no anger; his countenance was only filled with compassion for his child. “No,” he answered. “If I were in your place, I would have saved Kusu’s mother, just like you did.”

His assurance did make Ven feel relieved, but the young spirit’s thoughts were more centered on the implications of the spirit before him, who spoke in that voice that he knew. “A’ta, you...you were once a spirit?”

He gave a slow nod. “I was,” he said, turning slightly to glance back toward the Tree, his eyes seeming to look at the Light vessel nestled within. “..a long time ago, before I embraced the Light.” 

Ven knew he’d heard such words before, and momentarily he remembered: Kusu had used those same words to describe that other spirit’s sacrifice. However, it filled him with worry again as the troubling thoughts brought on by Kusu’s tale returned to him.

“..Will..will I have to do that too?”

The Tree’s form turned back to him. Quick to guard his surprise at the young spirit’s question, he pondered before choosing his words carefully. “You decide your destiny, Ven. Not the tales of those before, not the Blight, not K’enah..not even I. But..” He then shifted the subject, the younger spirit feeling that searching look again under his actual gaze. “..I would be glad if you did not leave.”

Ven’s ears wilted. He felt ashamed at having been found out. “They don’t need me..” he whined as his ears drooped, shaking his head.

“Yes, they do, Ven. Your friends, especially,” said the Tree as his spirit form approached his child. “And _you need them_. Tuktua was right: you do have something special. A friendship like what you share with them is a power that sustains the land and forest of Nisik just as much as the Light does.” 

He then reached forth, that compassion not having left his face as his hand touched Ven’s cheek with gentle, parental affection. “And that friendship is not lost.”

It surprised Ven that, though he could somewhat see through the spirit form of his A’ta, he could feel that touch. There was a warmth to it that was felt more than just on his face. A warmth that he didn’t want to leave. He looked up at his A’ta sadly.

“Hearts will mend,” assured his A’ta, “as will the land, even the forest you found Kusu’s mother in. With the Blight gone from her, strength will return to those woods again.”

Ven then stood, reaching to take his A’ta’s hand in both of his. As he looked upon him, something told him that the Tree would soon take his leave, leaving him alone once again. The ancient spirit then withdrew from him before he could take the hand, turning away to face toward the Tree and the Light vessel again.

Ven wished that he would stay. The warmth that the young spirit felt from his touch and his smile was such a relief after days of anguish. “A’ta, wait,” he entreated, coming around the boulder to go to him. As he did this, a distant but also familiar voice came to the young spirit’s ears, a voice that was shouting his name. 

The voice echoed, growing and reverberating louder until Ven could hear nothing else. The ancient spirit passed one more glance at Ven from over his shoulder, still smiling, as Ven’s whole vision faded to dark, followed by a falling sensation.

The voice became almost deafening as it shouted in distress. Then, it pleaded, shaking with emotion as though its owner was about to cry.

“Please, please be ‘live! Ven!!”

It finally registered to him as he came to again, that it was Peony’s voice he heard. The falling sensation ceased, and he felt as though he had suddenly been forced to sit down. As he opened his eyes, he found himself sitting against that same boulder he had previously hidden behind. Then, he felt that all that fatigue had returned, along with a new headache. His vision was still blurry, but he could see a purple blob in the background, obscured by a brown one that he knew to be his Ku’nuki and outha friends, respectively. The latter suppressed a sob of relief upon seeing him open his eyes. She withdrew, quickly bringing her bag in front of her and digging out her large hollow acorn, full of water. She pried off the cupule herself, and the spirit soon felt the rim of the acorn touching his mouth. “‘Ere, drink some, not t’fast.”

She tipped it for him, and the spirit felt the cool, soothing liquid refresh and renew him as it went down. He then jolted and shifted from his sitting position as he unexpectedly choked on the water, coughing and spluttering. A lot of it got on the jill, but unlike the last time it happened, there was no trace of annoyance in her face. Wordlessly, she merely wiped it from her eyes and cautiously offered the acorn to him again, tipping it more slowly for him to drink.

When he had drained it completely, Peony set it aside and then dug into her bag again, bringing forth a pawful of seeds and berries. 

Ven was back and awake, and he realized this now, sobered by what he had witnessed. He glanced past his friends toward the Spirit Pine, and wondered if and how real that conversation had been. As his vision cleared, he then looked at the jill. “Peony..” he said wistfully. His brow then furrowed as he asked, “..why didn’t you--”

The jill already knew by the look on the spirit’s face what he was going to ask, her paw clenching and slightly squishing the berries in them. She interrupted him with a sob and, dropping the seeds and berries, seized him in a hug and cried, “‘Cause I’m stupid, a..an’ ‘m sorry! ‘M so, so sorry, Ven, ‘ll never do that t’you again! Never!”

The spirit was taken aback at Peony’s confession and apology, and did nothing to stop her from burying her face in him as she cried. They were embracing much like the time they accidentally did at his home, but the jill did not thrust herself away. As she cried, Kusu stepped closer, filling in the spirit on what had happened while he was away. “The Spirit Pine spoke toooo us all. He sounded...mad at everyone for what they did tooo yooouu, and told everyone to find yooouu. We were so scared an’ sad for yooouu.” His gold eyes motioned toward Peony. “Her the most. Then, this afternoon she came bounding up toooo me, saying the Spirit Pine spoke toooo her, toooold her yoooou were here. We tooold Tuuuuktuuua an’ then came as fast as we could.”

Then, wilting as he looked a little ashamed himself, the Ku’nuki hastily added, “‘M sorry toooo, Ven. I shooould have been there with yoooouu.”

Ven then heard Peony beg amid her muffled cries. “Please don’ leave…”

Ven blinked at her in surprise, and then realized that not only had the Spirit Pine indeed spoken to him, but he also must have warned Peony of the young spirit’s inclinations to depart Nisik. He then frowned, and then looked up at Kusu. In that moment, he realized how silly, foolish even, that he had been to think that no one cared about him. He also thought of how awful the notion of him leaving must have felt for his friends. 

One of his arms lifted to wrap around the jill, partly returning the hug, glancing down at her before then looking at Kusu and answering his apology.

“..You’re….you’re here now,” he said thoughtfully, actually speaking to them both. “..That’s what matters.”

He looked down at Peony again, and for a moment felt his face go hot with embarrassment at their embrace. However, as his gaze lingered on her, with her face still buried in the fur beneath his shoulder, feelings he had never had before began to stir within him. He was happy to be among friends again, but this was different from that. He was happy to have a friend like Kusu. And he was happy to have a friend like Peony. Still, this was different from just happy memories or wanting to do fun things with her, but he could not comprehend how or why.

He just knew that...he was happy being with Peony. “..I won’t go,” he stated firmly to them.

The jill lifted her tearstained face, but it was aglow with hope at the spirit’s words. And for a moment, the spirit and the jill looked into each other’s eyes. Looking relieved, Kusu hopped forward, giving a hoot of joy. He looked as if he had more to say, but stopped as Peony looked his way, the jill simply mouthing at him “wait”. She then looked between them both, as if she   
were hesitating about something. She then settled her gaze on Ven again, sniffing loudly before she mustered up her courage and spoke.

“‘E’s right, I...I was so worried. ‘Fraid I was gonna lose ya, Ven. ‘Fraid I would...be without ya.” 

The jill had brought herself face to face with Ven with her last sentence, her nose and whiskers all atwitch with anxiety over what she was about to do. And before Ven could reply to her words, the jill closed her eyes and leaned in, until their noses touched. And as their noses touched, she moved her head around slowly, letting them rub together in a quiet expression of affection.

For Ven, the tickling sensation was brief, but it was lost amid the resulting surge of these new feelings and emotions he had only just come to know. By the time Peony withdrew, her face was nearly as deep a pink as the first berries he discovered at the beginning of summer. And his face felt like he had stuck it in a fire. His mouth fell open, the spirit rendered completely speechless.

He then looked to Kusu. The spirit wasn’t sure he had ever seen the Ku’nuki’s eyes so wide open before. The Ku’nuki blinked, and then every one of his feathers slowly puffed out, and his head seemed to sink into his shoulders. He then began to chortle loudly as his feathers quivered from suppressed laughter. 

Peony gave him a confused look. Still looking at the spirit, Kusu shook his head as he finally managed to say while fighting hard to not laugh, “Y’should see the looooook on yoooour face..”

The pair looked at each other, and then at Kusu. “Hmph,” huffed Peony, giving the Ku’nuki a fake steely eye. But then she snorted as she smirked, and soon she and the Ku’nuki were laughing about what had just happened.

Ven just sat there as they laughed, utterly confounded.

***

That afternoon, Tuktua had tried to rest while she waited by the eastern shore of Kinu Lake, but her mind would not allow her to. Despite her efforts to comfort and encourage Kusu and Peony, she was still racked with guilt much like they were for what had happened to Ven. And though the Spirit Pine’s revelation of Ven’s whereabouts to Peony ought to have given her hope, she feared to give it place in her heart. She feared that in his exhaustion, the others might find him too late. That he would never know her remorse. Or even worse, that he would return, only to reject her remorse and her company. 

Her ears flicked at the sound of a long hoot from far in the distance, and she lifted her head to look up. A purple speck was approaching from the western sky, and while she could not make them out, she knew it was Kusu. She stood, emotion welling within her as she dared to hope. “The Light willing, please bring him back to us,” she beseeched aloud to no one in particular. 

The guh’nuu then gave a hopeful bellow of her own in reply, which was answered with another long hoot, the speck growing as it came closer.

And as they neared, Tuktua breathed in sharply, her throat closing as she beheld that there was a light with Kusu. A light whose friendship she had missed terribly even in just these past few days. As they alighted on the ground, Tuktua practically galloped to them. Ven dismounted first, running to her.

They both stopped short several steps away. Ven looked up, frowning and ears drooping as he could see the anguish in her face. “Oh, Ven, thank the Light you’re alive,” she said, barely managing a whisper of those words around the lump in her throat.

Her heavy heart would not let her rejoice, and she broke down and wept. And between her sobs, she fought to speak through her emotions, the words coming out hoarsely as she begged the spirit the same question she asked in that winter past. 

“...Am I your friend?”

Ven closed the distance quickly, grasping one of her legs tightly and sniffing loudly. And there was no hesitation or reservation to his reply. “You are, Tuktua.”

The guh’nuu brought her head around to him, brushing against him as she only wept all the more, but out of happiness. He turned and gave her muzzle a caress with one hand, in a manner not that different from the Spirit Pine’s own gesture to him, touching his head against hers as he smiled through his tears.

And as Peony and Kusu came to join them, Ven looked at all three of them and said just as firmly, “You all are.”

The jill gave him a squeeze, and Kusu enfolded them in his wings. Together, the four of them clung to each other. And in that moment, Ven began to understand what the Spirit Pine meant about their friendship. He had often in his own mind downplayed the things he had been lauded for--saving Ezhi and the other outha at the Sirmiq, cleansing the fallen guh’nuu, saving Peony, even saving Kusu’s mother--because he had help.

It was true, he did not do these great things alone. He and his friends, together with the Light, had done them. 

He had kept his promise, with the help of friends. 

And at last, he felt no shame in that.

***

News of Ven’s return spread quickly. And with that, preparations for the Autumn Feast could finally begin as the Spirit Pine had directed. The next few days were busy for Ven and his friends as spirits and outha together, with aid from the Ku’nuki, gathered the last bounties of summer’s blessing upon Nisik. They did this not only for the Autumn Feast, but also to lay up food against the coming winter. Ven labored hard alongside his kin and the outha to help, anxious to make up for time lost that was spent searching for him. Kusu and Peony helped as well, the jill with help from the Ku’nuki bringing crafted bags to collect and haul the food. They were not as enthusiastic as Ven was to help, preferring to play instead of work. But, they also knew this was important to the spirit, and like him, felt their aid would help to make amends.

His friends were also not the only ones seeking to make restitution. Occasionally, the spirit’s labors were interrupted by other spirits, outha or Ku’nuki who were curious or contrite. Some came to ask him how he was able to heal Kusu’s mother, which he did not have an answer for, as this power of his was still something even he himself was trying to understand. Others came to thank him for all that he had done for Nisik, and yes, some even came to apologize to him for the harsh way he had been treated, even if they themselves had no part in it. Each visit was a quiet assurance to the spirit that he had made the right choice to not leave. That he was needed. That he was a part of this precious land.

And with the combined efforts of all, preparations for the Autumn Feast were completed in a few days. Originating many seasons ago as a means for the spirits of Nisik to build up sufficient energy for the long sleep of winter that followed, the feast grew over time to become an event to celebrate the Blight’s defeat along with summer’s end. And, as other denizens of Nisik joined the spirits in their cause, so too was the invitation to the feast extended to them. 

And so, spirits, outha and Ku’nuki were all gathered beneath the warm, radiant glow of the Spirit Pine to take part in the feast that cool evening. The Ku’nuki were largely separate, but some gathered alongside their spirit companions, including Kusu with Ven. The outha were a larger host than both the spirits and Ku’nuki, and were gathered together with some mingled among the spirits, to include Peony with Ven. And as the sole guh’nuu, Tuktua settled herself among the spirits so as to be near him.

K’enah sat at the head of the group of spirits. The conversations among the inhabitants of Nisik then hushed as the Spirit Pine pulsed more brightly, a humming filling the ears of all. As the humming subsided, K’enah then stood to speak.

“Brethren, sisters, dear friends,” he began, having to speak loudly so he could be heard by all. “Another summer draws to a close, another summer that we stand victorious against the Blight. The Light, once again..has triumphed.”

At this, everyone--spirit, outha, Ku’nuki, even Tuktua--whooped, bellowed, hooted or shouted for joy. The keshka gave them a moment to do this before gesturing for silence again before he continued. “We gather this evening, to celebrate that victory and to give thanks, not only for the Light’s blessings and bounties upon the land of Nisik, but also to remember. To remember from whom such blessings flow.” He looked and gestured upward with a hand, toward the Spirit Pine. “And to remember those who have returned to him. Some passed from among us during the winter, while others..”

He paused, and for a moment looked as though his composure wavered. He then cleared his throat. “..others gave of themselves to vanquish the Blight, so that you and I could be here, celebrating tonight.”

A rather somber air fell upon the multitude at this. Audible expressions of emotion began to sound from among them as the keshka named the departed, pausing for each.

“Eyu...Umala...Kipta...Nutik...Teshyu...Sunaura...Naala...Tasik...Kigun...and finally, Talu.”

It did not matter that Ven hardly knew each of the spirits whom K’enah named, for it was clear by the faces of many around him that they were loved and would be missed. He only knew that they had lost several according to K’enah; he did not know it was that many. The sorrow of the multitude became his. His heart ached for the lost, as well as for K’enah as he recalled Tuktua’s words about him, as well as their conversation here on that restless night.

And at the mention of Talu--the one whom he had found and returned--he made an audible cry of his own, putting his face in his hands. As he did this, he felt Peony’s paw touch his shoulder on one side, tightening and trembling as she too could not restrain her emotion. He also felt the comforting touch of Kusu’s wing on his other shoulder.

The keshka paused, giving the multitude some time to mourn their loss, his own eyes glistening. “Brethren, sisters, dear friends,” he resumed, “they have been taken from us, but they are not gone from us. They will always be with us, if we remember them. Let us remember their strength, their bravery, and their kindness by being strong, brave, and kind. Especially..to the new spirits and outha who have been born to us, and the new Ku’nuki who join us. And..I would be remiss if I neglected to recognize a new arrival of our own, who already has done so much for us all, and for Nisik: Ven.”

Ven lifted his eyes from his hands to look up at K’enah, who gestured toward him with a hand as though he would beckon the young spirit to come to him. Instead, the keshka’s hand fell to his side, and he left his place at the head of the multitude to go to him. As he went, he looked round about on the multitude. “The Blight came in the autumn. It festered and grew in the winter as we slept, but Ven was there. A collapsing of ice from the Sirmiq could have meant the end for several outha..but Ven was there. The guh’nuu were driven away by the Blight, their dead threatening to further corrupt our land...but Ven was there. And finally, a Ku’nuki mother was taken by the Blight, and believed by all, even I, to be lost to us forever.” And as he came within several paces of Ven, K’enah said one more time with emphasis as he looked upon the young spirit, “But Ven was there.” 

He then looked out over the multitude again. “I do not know what his miracle means for him, for us, or for Nisik. But I do know this.”

He then slowly dropped to a knee, his eyes leveling with Ven’s. The young spirit could tell by K’enah’s face that the keshka was sorrowful, but repentant. The keshka then spoke in normal volume to him.

“..I have been harsh, stubborn, and unforgiving.” He then held forth a hand to Ven. “And I’m sorry.”

Ven stared for a moment. He remembered how that day on the Outhan Plains, he thought of the heavy burdens his friends carried, and the need he felt to help them carry such burdens. He knew also that K’enah had heavy burdens of his own, not the least of which was this remorse that Ven knew was sincere. Moved with compassion, the desire to ease the keshka’s burdens also had stirred within him. 

And this burden was one that the young spirit knew he could do more than just help to bear. He could take it away.

And so, to K’enah’s surprise, Ven broke from the comforting grips of his friends and ran to him, wrapping his arms around the keshka. The tender scene moved many of the multitude to break into revered applause, which grew as they continued to clasp each other.

Ven then heard K’enah whisper to him. “You are my brother first and foremost. I am sorry I forgot that.”

Ven just nodded, only saying, “I forgive you..brother.”

“Thank you, Ven. For everything,” replied K’enah, squeezing a little more tightly. He then let go and stood, gesturing to his younger brother as he addressed the multitude again. “My brother and I have made peace. If you have been unkind to him, I urge you--like the Spirit Pine has--to make peace with him also. Now, my brethren, sisters and dear friends, let us feast. Let us celebrate. Let us give thanks. Let us reflect. Remember. Reconcile. That is my desire for you all as we gather together one last time, before we sleep again beneath the snow. Thank you.”  
Revered applause broke out again as K’enah concluded his speech, the keshka nodding to them, and then looking to Ven and nodding to him also, with a smile.

And with that, the feast began. All manner of fruits and berries, soft, ripe and in abundance from the sun’s enduring glow, were savored by all of the spirits and outha. Seeds and nuts of all kinds were also brought forth and shared by all, even the Ku’nuki. And though it was a little more difficult to gather and contain, even a copious amount of bugs and grubs for the Ku’nuki was provided. Everyone was able to partake, and be filled.

The Autumn Feast was also an opportunity for those gathered to converse, exchange stories and laughs, and for some, to also bid farewell to each other. Ven and his friends relished all the food, but the spirit’s eating and talking with his friends was frequently interrupted by many who came to do as K’enah and the Spirit Pine had urged, to apologize and also to thank him. His heart brimming with happiness at the acceptance he at last felt being among his own, he frankly and freely forgave them all.

And from among those who came to him, there were some familiar faces. Followed by his older sister, the young outha Ezhi leapt into Ven to give him a big hug, thanking him once again for saving his life. More reserved than her younger brother, the jill who came with him nodded, bowing slightly as she also thanked him profusely. He and his friends were all moved by Ezhi’s gesture, bringing back to their minds the tender moment they all shared on Kinu Lake. Even Tuktua, though she was not there, could feel the emotion it brought, almost as if she had been there.

And of those who came to Ven, last but certainly not least was Peony’s mother, Laurel. The jill mother approached him, looking a little stern with her arms folded. It made Ven feel nervous. He had no idea if she knew of his healing Peony, or of the affection Peony had shown him. 

The mother jill began, “You’ve been nothin’ but…” She then paused, before her countenance softened and she admitted, “...nothin’ but a _friend_ to my daughter, a blessing she had not enjoyed until you came along. You have made her the happiest she has ever been, and for that I am happy. I misjudged you, Ven. And ‘m sorry I said those things to you.”

She offered a paw. Unlike when he and Peony first met, Ven recognized the gesture and took the jill’s paw, shaking it and smiling. As they shook, Laurel leaned in a little closer and said, “When you wake again in the spring, an’ she’s with you...watch over her, will you?”

“Uh-huh,” said Ven happily. “She’s so smart. An’..” He sounded thoughtful. “..she’s lucky to have a mother like you who loves her so much.”

“Heh..to a fault, ‘m afraid,” laughed the mother jill. “Thank you, Ven.” Smiling, she gave him a nod, and gave one to the others out of courtesy, even to Kusu, before she went her way.

As they watched her go, their silence was interrupted by Kusu snerking. The spirit, outha and guh’nuu all looked at the young Ku’nuki. “What, wha’s so funny, Kusu?” said Peony.  
Kusu continued to chuckle. “Think she’ll get all mad again when she finds out what yoooouu did?” he asked the jill, winking slyly at her.

Peony gave him a mock scowl, sticking her tongue out at him and making a raspberry noise. Ven only shrank, going hot with embarrassment again.

Tuktua blinked, and then eyed Peony suspiciously. “What’s he talking about?”

Kusu then flapped his wings as he giggled and exclaimed, “She touched his nooose! With _her_ nooose!”

“WHAT!?” exclaimed Tuktua, almost shouting.

“SHHHH!!!!” hushed Peony urgently, now glaring for real at Kusu.

“Oh, fine,” hmphed Kusu, before he started to chortle again.

“Tuktua?” spoke Ven almost inaudibly as he thought he would sink into the ground from embarrassment. “They just laugh when I ask them, what does--”

The guh’nuu quickly cut him off. “Not now, Ven! Maybe next spring,” she groaned, to Kusu’s further hooting of laughter. Though, she couldn’t help but snort a little out of amusement herself, seeing the embarrassment on the spirit’s face, as well as the deepening color in Peony’s.

What a pair, she thought.

***

The feast celebrations carried well into the night. Embarrassment aside, it was a happy time for Ven, and for his friends. The young spirit had eaten so much that Tuktua took him home to make the journey easier for him. Peony had stuffed herself too, and Kusu gladly obliged to fly her home.

And over the course of the next several days, the trio met and played together, as well as made more preparations for Ven’s home to help keep him safe over the winter and give him a good head start to the next spring. Tuktua also joined them when she could, both to chat and to have fun with them. They all deliberately kept busy in one way or another, for that was the only way they could keep their minds off a sadness that loomed. A sadness that was sure to come, when one of them would have to leave, or sleep.

And the day did come. Little by little up until that day, the Ku’nuki had begun their departure for warmer lands. Kusu had put it off as long as he could, until those of his family that remained would not wait for him any longer. 

And so, outside of Ven’s home, The remaining Ku’nuki of Kusu’s family waited, as the four friends all met together, one more time. They talked, laughed about their antics and adventures, of the fun and the happy moments they shared, until impatient hoots from Kusu’s family began to interrupt them incessantly.

The four of them then all went silent, as the sadness of the inevitable made their emotions well to the surface. Tuktua then spoke to Kusu as she observed something about the Ku’nuki’s family. “Your mother isn’t with them, Kusu. Did she leave?”

Kusu nodded sadly. “She was oooone of the first toooo leave. She kept away from others a lot after she was healed. She still felt bad about everything she did, even if it wasn’ really her fault.”  
The guh’nuu nodded solemnly. “I see. I’m sure she’ll be welcome here again,” she replied, hopeful.

Kusu nodded back, smiling sadly. He then looked between them all. “I guess this is...goooodbye for noooow, huh?”

It was actually Peony who was the first to burst into tears and run to him, giving him a big hug as she buried her face into his white chest feathers. “‘M gonna miss ya, Kusu. Thank ya, f’r letting me choose ya an’ f’r bein’ a great friend.”

He wrapped his wings around the jill, trying hard to keep his composure as he leaned his head down to touch against hers. “I’ll miss yoooouu toooo, Peony. I’m glad yooouu chose me for a friend, and not for an enemy.”

He looked up at Tuktua who, not wanting to break them up, simply gave him a bow of her head. “Farewell, Kusu. We’ll miss you. I’ll miss you.”

Kusu nodded back. “I’ll miss yoooouu toooo, Tuuuuktuuua.”

At that moment, Ven had come near for his turn, the spirit trying to keep his composure too, though he was failing. All the happy memories, from the day they first met to now, swirled in his mind. 

The spirit didn’t want it to end. As his eyes met the Ku’nuki’s, Kusu began to lose his composure as well. Then, a thought distracted him. “Oh!” he exclaimed, releasing Peony. “I almost forgot. I…” He hesitated. “I have a gift for yoooouuuu, Ven. Stay here.”

He then broke away from them to join his family for a moment. “Awwwh!” sniffled Peony with chagrin. “I didn’ think t’get anyone anythin’.” She then looked to Ven and Tuktua. “Mebbe next Autumn, we c’n all give gifts t’ each other, huh?”

Tuktua nodded, smiling a little. “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Peony.” 

Ven sniffled, and though he was still crying, he smiled, bobbing his head in agreement.

At that moment, they all turned to Kusu as he returned, and Ven’s eyes widened at what he saw. Held in his beak by its hollow shaft, the Ku’nuki bore a large, rich purple feather. He then carefully tilted his head to let it fall lengthwise and gently into the spirit’s hands.

He then explained. “They say that spirit of old uuuuused a feather like this one toooo ride the wind. Noooow, even when I’m not here, yooouuu can toooo, Ven. This one belonged tooo my mother.”

Ven stared at the feather he now held in his hands. His mind went to that winter past, when he held another feather in his hands, one that was broken. That image left an indelible imprint on his mind, a tangible reminder of a terrible rift inflicted upon his heart for a different bird who, having been taken by the Blight, died by his hands. A rift that he regularly felt with pangs of sorrow and guilt. A rift, that never healed.

Until now. A testimony that he had indeed kept the promise he had made in that winter past, was now in his hands. At last, the spirit knew a deep and final peace to the turmoil within. That rift in his heart had filled and overflowed, with a joy that was as indescribable and exceeding as was his pain. 

The Ku’nuki had no idea how much this meant to Ven. The only one who had some inkling was Tuktua, and she had let a soft gasp escape her at the presentation of the gift, and she bit her lip as tears flowed unrestrained from her eyes. 

Ven bowed his head, rubbing the feather against his cheek as he wept without reservation. Kusu tilted his head at him sadly, not realizing at first that the spirit was weeping out of happiness, until Ven looked up at him, beaming with a tearstained smile, and suddenly threw both arms around him and hugged as tight as he could. “I’ll miss ya, Kusu,” he barely managed to speak amid all his crying. “Thank you so much.”

Relieved that Ven was actually happy, Kusu let hoots of happy weeping escape him as, like with Peony, he enfolded the spirit in his wings.

“Nooo, Ven,” he replied. “ _Thank yooouuu_.”

The spirit and the Ku’nuki tightly grasped each other, touching their heads together. Words failed them both in expressing the gratitude they had for each other, for the other believing in them, and for all the kind words, the kind deeds and the adventures that in that summer had forged a friendship neither would ever forget or forsake. And both knew. There was no need to speak it, for they both knew and felt it in their hearts.

And with that, Kusu finally let go, stepping back some paces before he sniffled and whispered those words the spirit had been dreading to hear all that day:

“Goooodbye, Ven.”

The Ku’nuki then turned and gave a long hoot to his kin, and thrust himself into the air, flapping his wings as he, along with the last of his family, took to the skies.

Ven watched as Kusu went, holding the feather in one hand while using his free hand to wave vigorously at him. Peony was then alongside him on his right, also waving furiously as she cried, “G’bye, Kusu!!”

Tuktua then joined Ven on his left, bellowing after the Ku’nuki, “Farewell, Kusu! We’ll miss you!!”

Kusu turned back to them one more time. “Bye Peony, Bye Tuuuktuuaa!”

The spirit and the Ku’nuki’s eyes met one more time, and Kusu mouthed one more “goodbye” to him before he continued on, swiftly flying away to catch up with his kin. 

Peony then looked away, back toward the others. The jill didn’t want to wait for the Ku’nuki to go out of sight, knowing it would make her cry all the more. She had not yet stopped crying, and the look on the others’ faces, Ven’s especially, wasn’t going to make it stop anytime soon.

Not for lack of trying, however. “Ne’er thought I’d say it, but ‘m gonna miss ridin’ on ‘im.” She then heaved a big sigh as she wiped her eyes with a paw and looked heavenward. “Th’ view up there..” she marveled.

“Yeah…” said Ven in agreement, sniffing as he too looked up. 

“He’ll be back, you two,” assured Tuktua, her gaze also following theirs. “There were many things I could feel, as I’m sure you could too, that didn’t have to be said as you all said and gave your goodbyes, and that was one of them. As surely as the summer will return, so will he.” 

She was right. It wasn’t just a wish or a hope in Ven and Peony’s hearts that this would be so. It was a profound conviction. 

***

It didn’t feel quite the same without Kusu, but like after the feast, Ven and Peony continued to pass the days playing and helping each other prepare for the coming winter in their respective ways. Tuktua often joined them then too, even if only to sit and watch while the pair continued to prepare and play.

Like Peony, she wanted to see the spirit as much as she could, once again fending off the sadness that was sure to come, when it would be Ven’s turn to leave them, to sleep.

And as autumn settled upon Nisik, with the days growing colder and shorter as the leaves turned and fell, a lethargy came upon the spirit, as well as on his kin. Rather than slip into the long sleep of winter almost right away like most of the other spirits did, Ven was determined to put it off, to be with his friends longer. But as the days went on, the spirit slept longer, took longer to get up, and even when he was awake, he just didn’t have his usual energy, needing to rest longer and more frequently. It wasn’t until Tuktua and even Peony convinced him that he resigned himself to follow his natural course. 

He did so reluctantly. Even though the winter, for him, would pass before him in almost an instant, he couldn’t help but wonder: would it? Despite every preparation they had made for him to avert a similar fate than that of Talu, would that fate find him anyway? Or would he see his friends again?

He didn’t dare to bring it up, for he knew how much that would worry them. Rather than let such thoughts trouble him, however, they instead served as motivation for him to live these days like they could be his last. He chose to be more kind, more patient, more happy. He strove to give as much of himself as he could to his friends, and to all.

Together, the three of them set a day that would be their last together. They spent it again in front of Ven’s home, eating, chatting and reminiscing about the times they had together, both good and bad, until they had nothing more to talk about, the awkward silence heralding that the time had come once again.

All three of them became increasingly sad. It was showing in all their faces, but perhaps not as much with Ven, because he had grown so tired. 

Tuktua then rose to her hooves. “I’ve something to say.”

The spirit and the outha looked to her, thinking that this would be the first of many goodbyes said before they finally parted.

The words she spoke shocked them. “Tomorrow morning...I’ll be leaving too.”

“What??” cried both Ven and Peony at the same time. Both scrambled upright--or at least Ven tried, but thanks to his fatigue, Peony easily beat him to it--and they rushed to wrap themselves around the guh’nuu’s front legs as if to try to stop her. The jill emotionally fell apart immediately. “Mama Tuktua, y’can’t leave! Not now, not when’ll be all ‘lone!!”

Tuktua shook her head quickly. “Not forever, Peony,” she assured, but she was quickly losing the battle to keep her emotions in check at the sight of her grief-stricken friends. “The guh’nuu herd, they...they don’t know Nisik is safe again. If someone doesn’t tell them, they may not return in the spring. I have to find them. I..thought that maybe Kusu or his kin could tell them, but their paths are not the same, and I’m not sure the herd would trust them after what happened. They will listen to me.”

Both Ven and Peony had buried their faces into her legs. “Please, try to understand,” she pleaded shakily. “I’ll return, _even if they do not_.” She then looked to the spirit. “For you Ven, I’ll be back by the time you wake. It will be like I never left.”

“But it won’ f’r me!!” came the muffled cry from Peony.

“I know, Peony. I know,” sobbed the guh’nuu. “I’ve already told K’enah, and your mother too. I’m sorry, I just..”

Peony just shook her head, still buried in the fur of Tuktua’s leg. “Why didn’ ya tell us? ‘R me??”

Notwithstanding all her seasons, wisdom had failed Tuktua. Nothing she could have thought to say would have changed the jill’s reaction in her mind. “..I didn’t know how to tell you, Peony,” came her ashamed reply.

“Promise y’ll come back, Tuktua! _Promise!!_ ” cried the jill. Ven looked up at her at this too, his eyes seeming to beg her the same thing.

Choking on her emotions, she otherwise responded without hesitation. “I promise, Peony.” She then looked to the spirit. “And I promise you too, Ven. I _will_ come back.”

Peony sniffed loudly as she withdrew. “Arright,” she said, wiping her eyes as she seemed satisfied with Tuktua’s word. The guh’nuu then shook her head apologetically at them both. “I’m sorry,” she said, still fighting to get her composure back. “This wasn’t supposed to be about me.” She then looked to Peony. “I’ll see you tomorrow before I leave. Promise.”

The jill nodded hastily, sniffling again before she looked to Ven.

The spirit looked up at the guh’nuu, the emotion not having left his face, still coming to terms with her leaving and her subsequent promise to return.

The emotion hadn’t left Tuktua’s visage either, her voice quaking as she brought her head down level so that they were face to face. “Oh Ven….dear child, dear friend, this hasn’t got any easier than the first time. I’ll miss you, every day.”

Then, she gasped softly as she saw something about the spirit that gave her pause: he was getting brighter. He did not wrap his arms tightly around her. Rather, he let his hands rest on the sides of her muzzle, while his head leaned forward, touching above on her face, below her antlers. 

And notwithstanding the tears, he then smiled amid his brightness, wishing only to comfort her as his hands caressed. 

And this time, he had the words he wanted to say, and _could_ say.

“Tuktua….thank you. For everything.”

The guh’nuu did not know if it was the spirit’s words, his greater light or both, but with that gesture, she felt like she had felt in that winter past. Though her heart ached, the assurance was unmistakably there. It would be all right. She would be all right.

The spirit’s light had reduced to his usual glow by the time he let go, but the peace remained with her, the guh’nuu simply nodding at his words, trying but failing to not sniffle a bit loudly. “I’m very proud of you,” she only managed to whisper.

Now, it was Peony’s turn. But before they said or did anything, Ven held up a hand. “Wait,” he said, looking between them before his eyes settled upon the jill again. “I..I have something for you.” 

The jill perked and watched with puzzlement as the spirit went to his tree home. Normally he would have run up the trunk and leapt up to reach the door, but the fatigue of the seasons’ turn was weighing heavily upon him. Instead, he climbed up the rope she had made. It took longer and seemed to tire him more than usual. By the time he reached the top, the spirit was out of breath, leaning by the door for a moment to rest before going inside.

Tuktua and Peony both looked at each other frowning, their hearts wrenching at watching the spirit struggle so. The guh’nuu had thought to say something to the jill, but Ven soon appeared at his door again, clenching something in one hand. He peered over the edge of the bough, seeming to hesitate at the idea of jumping to the ground like he would normally do. Both of his friends had thought to tell him that he didn’t have to jump down and that he ought to just climb down with the rope, but before they could say this, the spirit leapt.

He landed on his hooves, but with a whine then fell forward, a knee striking the ground while he caught himself with his forearm and his free hand. Squeaking in dismay, Peony ran on all fours to him, with Tuktua close behind. But as they approached him, he held up his free hand as if to halt them, still staring at the ground. “‘M all right,” he assured them, grunting with labored breath.

“No, y’re not,” replied Peony, her brow furrowing as she took his free hand in both paws to help him stand. “...We..w’should’ve done this sooner, I don’ want ya gettin’ hurt..”

Tuktua didn’t say anything, but in her mind, she couldn’t help but agree. “I know,” breathed Ven, nodding in thanks for Peony’s help but then looking apologetic, “but I just..”

“Oh, don’t say it, Ven, I know,” interrupted the jill, her emotions threatening again. “We’ve done as much as w’can to help ya be prepared, we’ll jus’...have to trust it’ll be enough..”

In an effort to change the subject to something less sobering, she looked at his clenched hand, and then to him expectantly.

He held it forth. “This,” he said as he opened his hand, “was in my home. In one of the old bags.”

In his hand was that small crystal shard. He had learned by observation that it was somehow capable of absorbing the light that emanated from him whenever he kept it close. Additionally, he found that with enough light, it would retain its glow. And so, ever since he had found it, the spirit had kept it close every night whenever he slept. And in a summer’s time, not only did it now have a glow of its own, it was even brighter than his own. He did not know why it did this, or what it even was. He merely thought it was pretty, and that she would like it.

“I want you to have it,” he said, offering it to the jill.

Peony took it carefully, staring at it with awe. “I…I’ve seen this b’fore,” she said.

Ven blinked at her. “You have?”

She nodded, its light reflecting off her golden brown eyes as she replied. “That day I firs’ helped ya clean the place. I saw it ‘n the bag, though it wasn’ anywhere as bright as this. I’d…” She then looked and sounded embarrassed. “..I’d thought to take it an’ not say anythin’, but felt bad at th’ idea, so I jus’ ignored it.”

She then looked to him and smiled, raising it briefly. “‘M glad I didn’ take it. ‘S beautiful, Ven. I’ll treasure it.”

And before Ven could voice his gladness at her approval, the jill was suddenly in his face. And once again, like on the Broken Tooth, she leaned forward, gently and affectionately rubbing her nose against his. 

And once again, as she withdrew, she saw that Ven’s mouth hung open, the spirit completely stunned. Emotions swirled within her as she not only flushed, but laughed and yes, even cried a little all at once. “Kusu’s right,” she giggled and then sniffed, wiping her eyes. “Y’ve got such a funny look on yer face..”

She then threw her arms around the spirit, squeezing him tightly as she broke down again. “I’ll miss ya, Ven. ‘M glad we met.”

“Me too, Peony. Me too,” he spoke finally, returning the hug, smiling warmly even though he cried too. “I will look for you in the spring.”

The spirit wished this moment would stay, but the urge to sleep had grown strong in his mind, and he knew he would not be able to keep it at bay much longer. As they let go, she nodded at his words. “I’ll...I’ll be waitin’,” she said.

Tuktua had said nothing at Peony’s gesture, though she did become emotional again herself as they exchanged their words and hugs. As they let go, she lowered her head for the spirit to climb on. As he did so, holding onto her antlers, the guh’nuu stood on her hind hooves, leaning against the tree to give the spirit a little boost. From there, the spirit grabbed the nearest knot in the rope, making one more climb while Tuktua and Peony watched in melancholy silence. 

It took time and effort again, but Ven made it without issue, stopping again to rest before going inside to pull the rope in through the door. And then he emerged one more time, with tired eyes but with a smile as he waved to them. “Goodbye, Tuktua. Goodbye, Peony!”

“Farewell, Ven! Stay safe!” bellowed Tuktua, unable to keep the tears back. “G’bye, Ven!” shouted Peony, crying just as much, if not more than the guh’nuu.

“You too!” shouted Ven at Tuktua’s words. Then, he looked at them both. “Both of you.”

The spirit then disappeared behind the door. But just as he was about to close it, he listened for a moment. The guh’nuu and the jill began to regain themselves as they turned and began to walk away. With a loud sniff, Tuktua said to Peony in mock reproof, “Aren’t you a little young to be doing that, dear?”

Peony answered with a raspberry. “Oh really?” scoffed the guh’nuu, unable to hide a chuckle. “Just wait until your mother hears of this!”

“‘Ey! She doesn’ have t’know!!”

Ven tiredly chuckled as he closed the door and turned the latch upon it, the voices of his friends fading away. He looked up as he slowly made his way to his bed. Multiple empty but luminous cones from the Spirit Pine dangled above, giving both light and warmth. A drape tightly covered the window above to keep out the cold that was sure to come. And on the floor, a woven sack filled with nuts and seeds rested against the wall. And next to that, lay the feather Kusu had given him.

The sight of the feather made him wonder, even as sleep was poised to overtake him. His power wasn’t a secret anymore, but he still didn’t know why the Spirit Pine even wanted it to be secret. Would he ever know why? And if he did find out, would he regret it, as the Tree had said?

But as he settled and curled himself up on his bed, he refused to let that worry him, even as he at last succumbed to deep sleep. For, he found solace in that he had “done right” this first summer of his. Solace in that he had kept his promise. Solace in that he would continue to keep that promise, with the help of beloved, faithful friends. 

Solace...in that there was peace in the land and forest of Nisik.

The End


End file.
